^1 


'  o- 


'^M^l^' -^ 


LIBRARY 


FIFTEENTH   THOUSAND. 


MY  BONDAGE 


AND 


MY  F 


OM. 


•  Irot  I— lift  its  u  BMt  %nt  ii— fife  as  a  Imman.  ^, 


Bi  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS. 


WITH 


AN     I  N  T  R  O  23  U  C  T  I  O  N 


By  dr.  JAMES  M'CUNE  SMITH. 


''By  a  principle  essential  to  Christianity,  a  pekson-  is  eternally  differenced  from  a 
THING ;  so  that  the  idea  of  a  human  being,  necessarily  excludes  the  idea  of  pkopeeti 

IN  THAT  BEING.  COLEEIDGE. 


MVi^YOHK  A1^0/,U3UR¥: 
MILLER,  ORTON  &  MULLIGAN, 

l^eT^Yorijr  25'Park  iJoW.^-AuIi^rn:  107  G'^uesee-st. 

1855. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand  eight  hundred 

and  fifty-five, 

BY  FEEDEEICK   DOUGLASS, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Northern  District  of  New  York. 


auburn: 
miller,    orton   <t   mulligan 


TO 

IEI(D)H(D1EAIBH.IS   ©iSmmH'^   iMUffilEa 

AS  A  SLIGHT  TOKEN  OF 

ESTEEM    FOR     HIS     CHAEACTEE, 

ABMiRATlGN  FOR  HIS  GEi^iilS  AM  BENEVGLEi^CE, 

AFFECTION  FOR  IIIS  PERSOX,  AND 

AXD  AS 

^  .Small  but  most  Sincere  ^dtnohjlclfsment  of 

HIS  PRE-EJIINENT  SERVICES  IN  BEHALF  OF  THE  RIGHTS  AXD  LIBERTIES 

OF  AN 

BY  EANXIXG  SLAYEIiY  WITH  PIEACY  AXD  iaT.DER, 

AND  BY 
DENYING  IT  EITHER  A  LEGAL  OR  CONSTITUTIONAL  EXISTENCE, 


BY  HIS  FAITHFUL  AND  FIRMLY  ATTACHED  FRIEND, 


PREDEEICK  DOUGLASS. 

EOOHBSTEB,  N.  Y. 


649B5^ 


EDITOR'S    PREFACE. 


If  the  volume  now  presented  to  the  public  were  a 
mere  work  of  Akt,  the  history  of  its  misfortune  might 
be  written  in  two  very  simple  words — too  late.  The 
nature  and  character  of  slavery  have  been  subjects  of 
an  almost  endless  variety  of  artistic  representation ; 
and  after  the  brilliant  achievements  in  that  field,  and 
while  those  achievements  are  yet  fresh  in  the  memory 
of  the  million,  he  who  v/ould  add  another  to  the  legion, 
must  possess  the  charm  of  transcendent  exellence,  or 
apologize  for  something  worse  than  rashness.  The 
reader  is,  therefore,  assured,  with  all  due  promptitude, 
that  his  attention  is  not  invited  to  a  work  of  Art,  but 
to  a  work  of  Facts — Facts,  terrible  and  almost  in- 
credible, it  may  be — yet  Facts,  nevertheless. 

I  am  authorized  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  fictitious 
name  nor  place  •  in  the  whole  volume  ;  but  that 
names  and  places  are  literally  given,  and  that  every 
transaction  therein  described  actually  transpired. 

Perhaps  the  best  Preface  to  this  volume  is  furnished 


VI  PREFACE. 

in  the   following  letter  of  Mr.  Douglass,  written  in 
answer  to  my  urgent  solicitation  for  such  a  work : 

Rochester,  N.  Y.  Juhj  2,  1855. 

Dear  Friend  :  I  have  long  entertained,  as  you  very  well 
know,  a  somewhat  positive  repugnance  to  writing  or  speaking 
anything  for  the  public,  which  could,  with  any  degree  of 
plausibility,  make  me  liable  to  the  imputation  of  seeking  per- 
sonal notorietv,  for  its  own  sake.  Entertaininoj  that  feelins 
very  sincerely,  and  permitting  its  control,  perhaps,  quite  un- 
reasonably, I  have  often  refused  to  narrate  my  personal  expe- 
rience m  public  anti-slavery  meetings,  and  in  sympathizing 
circles,  when  urged  to  do  so  by  friends,  with  whose  views  and 
wishes,  ordinarily,  it  were  a  pleasure  to  comply,  hi  my  letters 
and  speeches,  I  have  generally  aimed  to  discuss  the  cpestion  of 
Slavery  in  the  light  of  fundamental  principles,  and  upon  facts, 
notorious  and  open  to  all ;  making,  I  trust,  no  more  of  the  fact 
of  mv  own  former  enslavement,  than  circumstances  seemed 
absolutely  to  require.  I  have  never  placed  my  opposition  to 
slavery  on  a  basis  so  narrow  as  my  own  enslavement,  but  rather 
upon  the  indestructible  and  unchangeable  laws  of  human  nature, 
every  one  of  which  is  perpetually  and  flagrantly  violated  by 
the  slave  system.  I  have  also  felt  that  it  was  best  for  those 
having  histories  worth  the  writing — or  supposed  to  be  so — to 
commit  such  work  to  hands  other  than  their  own.  To  write 
of  one's  self,  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  incur  the  Imputation  of 
weakness,  vanity,  and  egotism,  is  a  work  within  the  ability  of 
but  few  ;  and  I  have  little  reason  to  believe  that  I  belong  to 
that  fortunate  few. 

These  considerations  caused  me  to  hesitate,  when  first  you 


PREFACE.  Vii 

kindly  urged  me  to  prepare  for  publication  a  full  account  of 
my  life  as  a  slave,  and  my  life  as  a  freeman. 

Nevertheless,  I  see,  with  you,  many  reasons  for  regarding 
my  autobiography  as  exceptional  in  its  character,  and  as  being, 
in  some  sense,  naturally  beyond  the  reach  of  those  reproaches 
which  honorable  and  sensitive  minds  disHke  to  incur.  It  is  not 
to  illustrate  any  heroic  achievements  of  a  man,  but  to  vindicate 
a  just  and  beneficent  principle,  in  its  application  to  the  whole 
human  family,  by  letting  in  the  light  of  truth  upon  a  system, 
esteemed  by  some  as  a  blessing,  and.  by  others  as  a  curse  and  a 
crime.  I  agree  with  you,  that  this  systena  is  now  at  the  bar  of 
public  opinion — not  only  of  this  country,  but  of  the  whole 
civilized  world — for  judgment.  Its  friends  have  made  for  it 
the  usual  plea — "  not  guilty ;"  the  case  must,  therefore,  pro- 
ceed. Any  facts,  either  from  slaves,  slaveholders,  or  by-standers, 
calculated  to  enlighten  the  public  mind,  by  revealing  the  true 
nature,  character,  and  tendency  of  the  slave  system,  are  in  order, 
and  can  scarcely  be  innocently  withheld. 

I  see,  too,  that  there  are  special  reasons  why  I  should  write 
my  own  biography,  in  preference  to  employing  another  to  do 
it.  Not  only  is  slavery  on  trial,  but  unfortunately,  the  enslaved 
people  are  also  on  trial.  It  is  alleged,  that  they  are,  naturally, 
inferior ;  that  they  are  so  loio  in  the  scale  of  humanity,  and  so 
utterly  stupid,  that  they  are  unconscious  of  their  wrongs,  and 
do  not  apprehend  their  rights.  I^ooking,  then,  at  your  request, 
from  this  stand-point,  and  wishing  everything  of  which  you 
think  me  capable  to  go  to  the  benefit  of  my  afflicted  people,  I 
part  with  my  doubts  and  hesitation,  and  proceed  to  furnish  you 
the  desired  manuscript ;  hoping  that  you  may  be  able  to  make 
such  arrangements  for  its  publication  as  shall  be  best  adapted 


YIU  PEEFAOE. 

to   accomplish   that  good  which  you  so   enthusiastically  an 

ticipate. 

Frederick  Douglass. 

There  was  little  necessity  for  doubt  and  hesitation 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Douglass,  as  to  the  propriety  of  his 
giving  to  the  world  a  full  account  of  himself.  A  man 
who  was  born  and  brought  up  in  slavery,  a  living 
witness  of  its  horrors ;  who  often  himself  experienced 
its  cruelties  ;  and  who,  desj^ite  the  depressing  influ- 
ences surrounding  his  birth,  youth  and  manhood,  has 
risen,  from  a  dark  and  almost  absolute  obscurity,  to 
the  distinguished  position  which  he  now  occupies, 
might  very  well  assume  the  existence  of  a  commen- 
dable curiosity,  on  the  part  of  the  public,  to  know  the 

facts  of  his  remarkable  history. 

Editor. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 
ISTEODTJCTION,  ....,.«..  IT 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  author's  childhood. 

Place  of  Birth,      .........        83 

Character  of  the  District,      .  .  .  ...  .  .  34 

Time  of  Birth — My  Grandparents,  ......        35 

Character  of  my  Grandmother,        ......  86 

The  Log  Cabin — Its  Charms,       ,  .  .  .  .  .  '.87 

First  Knowledge  of  being  a  Slave,  .....  8S 

Old  Master — Griefs  and  Joys  of  Childhood,        .  .  .  .  .39 

Comparative  Happiness  of  the  Slave-Boy  and  his  "White  Brother,  .  .  40 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  AUTHOR  REMOVED  FROM  HIS  FIRST  HOME. 

The  name  "Old  Master"  a  Terror,  ......        43 

Home  Attractions — Dread  of  being  removed  from  Tuckahoe,        .  .  44 

The  Journey  to  Col.  Lloyd's  Plantation,  .  .  .  .  .46 

Scene  on  reaching  Old  Master's,        ......  47 

First  Meeting  with  my  Brothers  and  Sisters,     .  .  .  .  .43 

Departure  of  Grandmother — Author's  Grief,  ....  49 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  author's  parentage. 

Author's  Father  shrouded  in  Myst«ry,     ......  51 

My  Mother — Her  Personal  Appearance,      .....  52 

Her  Situation — Visits  to  her  Boy,          ......  53 

Cruelty  of  "  Aunt  Katy  " — Threatened  Starvation,             ...  55 

My  Mother's  Interference,            .......  56 

Her  Death,     .            .            .           .            .            .            .           .           .  57 

Her  Love  of  Knowledge,           .......  53 

Penalty  for  having  a  White  Father,             .            .           .            .            .  59 

CHAPTER  IV. 

A  GENERAL  SURVEY  OF  THE  SLAVE  PLANTATION. 

Slaveholding  Cruelty  restrained  by  Public  Opinion,      .  .  .  .61 

Isolation  of  Lloyd's  Plantation,        ......  62 

Beyond  the  reach  of  Public  Opinion,      ......        5? 

Eeligion  and  Politics  alike  Excluded,       .  .  .  .  .     -      .  64 

Natural  and  Artificial  Charms  of  tho  Place,        .....        65 

The  "Great House,"  .......  67 


o 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAQB. 

Etiquette  among  Slaves,            .......  69 

The  Comic  Slave-Doctor,     .......  70 

Praying  and  Flogging,     ,..,....  71 

Business  of  Old  Master,        .......  73 

Sufferings  from  Hunger,              .......  75 

Jargon  of  the  Plantation,       .......  76 

Family  of  Col.  Lloyd— Mas'  Daniel,        ......  77 

Family  of  Old  Master— Social  Position,        .....  78 

CHAPTER  V. 

GRADUAL  INITIATION  INTO  THE  MYSTERIES  OF  SL.A.VERY. 
Growing  Acquaintance  with  Old  Master — His  Character,        .  .  .79 

Evils  of  Unrestrained  Passion — A  Man  of  Trouble,            ...  80 
Supposed  Obtuseness  of  Slave-Children,           .            .            .            .            .81 

Brutal  Outrage  on  my  Aunt  Milly  by  a  drunken  Overseer,            .            .  82 

Slaveholders'  Impatience  at  Appeals  against  Cruelty,     .            ...  83 

"Wisdom  of  appealing  to  Superiors,            .....  84 

Attempt  to  break  up  a  Courtship,          .             .....  85 

Slavery  destroys  all  Incentives  to  a  Virtuous  Life,            ...  86 

A  Harrowing  Scene,        ........  87 

CHAPTER  YI. 

TREATMENT  OF  SLAVES  ON  LLOYD's  PLANTATION. 

The  Author's  Early  Eellections  on  Slavery,        ......  89 

Conclusions  at  which  he  Arrived,    ......  90 

Presentiment  of  one  day  being  a  Freeman,        .  .  .  .  .91 

Combat  between  an  Overseer  and  a  Slave-Woman,           ...  92 

Nelly's  noble  Eesistance,          .            .               .....  94 

Advantages  of  Eesistance,    .......  95 

Mr.  Sevier,  the  brutal  Overseer,  and  his  Successors,      .  .  ,  .96 

Allowance-day  on  the  Home  Plantation,     .....  97 

The  Singing  of  the  Slaves  no  Proof  of  Contentment,     .  .  .  .93 

Food  and  Clothing  of  the  Slaves,     ......  100 

Naked  Children,              ........  101 

Nursing  Children  carried  to  the  Field,        .....  102 

Description  of  the  Cowskin,         .......  103 

Manner  of  making  the  Ash  Cake — The  Dinner  Hour,        .            .            .  104 

Contrast  at  the  Great  House,      .......  105 

CHAPTER  YII.     . 

LIFE  IN  THE  GREAT  HOUSE. 

Comfort  and  Luxuries — ^Elaborate  Expenditure,           ....  107 

Men  and  Maid  Servants — Black  Aristocracy,            ....  109 

Stable  and  Carriage  House,         .  .  .  .  .  .  .110 

Deceptive  Character  of  Slavery,       ......  Ill 

Slaves  and  Slaveholders  alike  Unhappy,            .....  112 

Fretful ness  and  Capriciousness  of  Slaveholders,     ....  113 

Whipping  of  Old  Barney  by  Col.  Lloyd,             .....  114 

William  Wilks,  a  supposed  son  of  Col.  Lloj'd,            ....  115 

Curious  Incident — Penalty  of  telling  the  Truth,            ....  116 

Preference  of  Slaves  for  Eicb  Masters,        .            .            .            .            .  Ii8 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  CHAPTER  OF  HORRORS.        *  PAGE, 

Austin  Gore — Sketch  of  his  Character,          .....  119 

Absolute  Power  of  Overseers,     .......  121 

Murder  of  Dcnby — How  it  Occurred,           .....  122 

How  Gore  made  Peace  with  Col.  Lloyd,            .....  123 

Murder  of  a  Slave-girl  by  Mrs.  Hicks,        .....  125 

No  Laws  for  the  Protection  of  Slaves  can  be  Enforced,            .            .            .  12T 

CHAPTER  IX. 

PERSONAL  TREATMENT  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

Miss  Lncretia  Auld — Her  Kindness,       ......  129 

A  Battle  with  "  Ike,"  and  its  Conseq^uenoes,            ....  130 

Beams  of  Sunlight,          ........  131 

Suffering  from  Cold — How  we  took  our  Meals,       ....  132 

Orders  to  prepare  to  go  to  Baltimore — Extraordinary  Cleansing,          .            .  134 

Cousin  Tom's  Description  of  Baltimore,      .....  135 

The  Journey,       .            .                         ......  136 

Arrival  at  Baltimore,            .......  137 

Kindness  of  my  new  Mistress — Little  Tommy,  .....  138 

A  Turning  Point  in  my  History,     ......  139 

CHAPTER  X. 

LIFE  IN  BALTIMORE. 

City  Annoyances — Plantation  Regrets,    ......  141 

My  Improved  Condition,                   ......  142 

Character  of  my  new  Master,  Hugh  Auld,        .          ■  .            .            .            .  143 

My  Occupation — Increased  Sensitiveness,    .....  144 

Commencement  of  Learning  to  Eead — "Why  Discontinued,     .            .  145 

Master  Hugh's  Exposition  of  the  true  Philosophy  of  Slavery,         .            .  146 

Increased  Determination  to  Learn,        ......  147 

Contrast  between  City  and  Plantation  Slaves,          ....  143 

Mrs.  Hamilton's  Brutal  Treatment  of  her  Slaves,        ....  149 

CHAPTER  XL 

"a  change  CAME  o'eR  THE  SPIRIT  OF  MY  DREAM." 

Knowledge  Acquired  by  Stealth,           .            .            .             .            .            ,  151 

My  Mistress — Her  Slaveholding  Duties,       .....  152 

Deplorable  Effects  on  her  Character,      .            ,            ,            .            ...  153 

How  I  pursued  my  Education — My  Tutors,             ....  155 

My  Deliberations  on  the  Character  of  Slavery,            ....  15G 

The  Columbian  Orator  and  its  Lessons,     .            .            .            .            .'  157 

Speeches  of  Chatham,  Sheridan,  Pitt,  and  Fox,            ....  158 

Knowledge  ever  Increasing — My  Eyes  Opened,       ....  159 

How  I  pined  for  Liberty,          .......  160 

Dissatisfaction  of  my  poor  Mistress,            .....  161 

CHAPTER  XII. 

RELIGIOUS  NATURE  AWAKENED. 

Abolitionists  spoken  of,               .......  163 

Eagerness  to  know  wliat  the  word  meant,           ....  164 


Xll 


CONTENTS. 


The  Enigma  solved — Turner's  Insurrection.     . 

Fii'st  Awakened  on  tlie  subject  of  Eeligion, 

My  Friend  Lawson — His  Character  and  Occupation,     , 

Comfort  Derived  from  liis  Teaching, 

New  Hopes  and  Aspirations,       ..... 

The  Irishmen  on  the  Wharf— Their  Sympathy, 

How  I  learned  to  "Write,      ...... 

CHAPTER  Xlir. 

THE  VICISSITUDES  OF  SLAVE  LIFE. 
Death  of  Young  Master  Eichard,  .... 

Authors  Presence  required  at  the  Division  of  Old  Master's  Property, 
Attachment  of  Slaves  to  their  Homes,  .... 
Sad  Prospects  and  Grief,       ..... 
General  Dread  of  Master  Andrew — His  Cruelty, 
Eeturn  to  Baltimore — Death  of  Mistress  Lucretia, 
My  poor  old  Grandmother  —  Her  sad  Fate, 
Second  Marriage  of  Master  Thomas, 

Again  Removed  from  Master  Hugli's,     .... 
Eegrets  at  Leaving  Baltimore,        .... 
A  Plan  of  Escape  Entertained,     ..... 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

EXPERIENCE    IN    ST.    MICHAEl's. 
The  Tillage  and  its  Inhabitants,  .... 

Meteoric  Phenomena — Author's  Impressions, 

Character  of  my  new  Master  and  Mistress, 

Allowance  of  Food — Sufferings  from  Hunger, 

Stealing  and  its  A^indication,       ..... 

A  new  Profession  of  Faith,  .... 

Morality  of  Free  Society  has  no  Application  to  Slave  Society, 
Southern  Camp-Meeting — Master  Thomas  professes  Conversion, 
Hopes  and  Suspicions,     ...... 

The  Eesult — Faith  and  Works  entirely  at  Yariance, 

No  more  Meal  brought  from  the  Mill — Methodist  Preachers,     . 

Their  utter  Disregard  of  the  Slaves — Aji  Exception, 

A  Sabbath  School  Instituted,       .  ,  .  .  . 

How  broken  up  and  by  whom,        .... 

Cruel  Treatment  of  Cousin  Henny  by  Master  Thomas, 
Differences  with  Master  Thomas,  and  the  Consequences,     . 
Edward  Covey — His  Character,  .  ... 

CHAPTER  XV. 

COVEY,  THE    NEGRO-BREAKER. 
Journey  to  my  new  Master's,       ..... 
Meditations  by  the  way,        ..... 
View  of  Covey's  Eesidence — The  Family, 
Awkwardness  as  a  Field  Hand,        .... 
First  Adventure  at  Ox  Driving,  .... 

Unnily  Animals — Hair-breadth  Escapes,     . 
Oxen  and  Men — Points  of  Similarity,     .... 


PAGS, 

165 
166 
167 
168 
169 
170 
171 


173 

174 
176 
177 
178 
179 
180 
ISl 
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183 
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185 
186 
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183 
1S& 
190 
191 
193 
194 
195 
197 
198 
199 
200 
201 
202 
203 


205 
206 
207 
208 
209 
211 
212 


CONTENTS. 

Sent  back  to  the  "Woods,      ...... 

Covey's  Manner  of  proceeding  to  "Whip, 

His  Cunning  and  Trickery— Severe  Labor, 

Family  Worship,  ...... 

Shocking  Contempt  for  Chastity— An  Illustration, 
Author  Broken  Down— His  only  Leisure  Time, 
Freedom  of  the  Ships  and  his  own  Slavery  Contrasted,  i^  . 
Anguish  beyond  Description,      ..... 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

ANOTHER  PRESSURE  OF  THE  TYRANT's  VICE, 

Experience  at  Covey's  summed  up,       .... 

Scene  in  the  Treading  Yard,  .  .  .  .  , 

Author  taken  111,  ...... 

Unusual  Brutality  of  Covey, 
Escape  to  St.  Michael's — Suffering  in  the  "Woods, 
Circumstances  Narrated  to  Master  Thomas — His  Bearing, 
'■"'he  Case  Prejudged — Driven  back  to  Covey's, 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    LAST  FLOGGING. 
A  Sleepless  Night — Eeturn  to  Covey's, 
His  Conduct — Again  Escape  to  the  "Woods, 
Deplorable  Spectacle — Night  in  the  "Woods, 
An  Alarm — A  Friend,  not  an  Enemy,    . 
Sandy's  Hospitality — The  Ash  Cake  Supper, 
A  Conjuror — His  Advice — The  Magic  Root, 
Want  of  Faith — The  Talisman  Accepted,     . 
Meeting  with  Covey — His  Sunday  Face, 
His  Manner  on  Monday — A  Defensive  Eesolve, 
A  Rough  and  Tumble  Fight,       .... 
Unexpected  Resistance,        .  .  .  ,       ■ 

Covey's  IneflFectual  Commands  for  Assistance, 
The  Victory  and  its  Results, 
Effects  upon  my  own  Character, 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

NEW  RELATIONS  AND  DUTIES, 
Change  of  Masters — Resolve  to  Fight  my  "Way,     . 
Ability  to  Read  a  cause  of  Prejudice,  .  . 

Manner  of  Spending  the  Holidays,  .  . 

The  Effects — Sharp  hit  at  Slavery, 
A  Device  of  Slavery,  .... 

Difference  between  Master  Freeland  and  Covey, 
An  Irreligious  Master  Preferred — The  Reasons  Why, 
The  Reverend  Rigby  Hopkins,  .  . 

Catalogue  of  Floggable  Offenses,      .  . 

Rivalry  among  Slaves  Encouraged, 
Improved  Condition  at  Freeland's, 
Reasons  for  continued  Discontent,  .  .  . 

t!ongenial  Society— TJie  Sabbath  School,    . 


Xlll 

PAGE. 
213 

214 
215 
217 
218 
219 
220 
.  221 


222 
223 
224 
225 
22T 
229 
231 


233 
234 
235 
236 
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242 
243 
244 
246 
247 


250 
251 
252 
253 
255 
257 
258 
259 
260 
261 
262 
263 
264 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


Its  MemDers — Necessity  for  Secrecy, 
Affectionate  Relations  of  Master  and  Pupils, 
Confiflence  and  Friendship  among  Slaves, 
Slavery  the  Inviter  of  Vengeance, 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  RUNAWAY  PLOT. 

New  Tear's  Thonglits  and  Eeflections, 

Again  liired  by  Freeland,       .... 

Still  Devising  Plans  for  gaining  Freedom,' 

A  Solemn  Vow — Plan  Divulged  to  the  Slaves, 

Arguments  in  its  Support — The  Sclieme  gains  Favor,     . 

Danger  of  Discovery — Difficulty  of  Concealment, 

Skill  of  Slaveholders — Suspicion  and  Coercion, 

Hymns  with  a  Double  Meaning, 

Author's  Confederates — His  Influence  over  them, 

Preliminary  Consultations — Pass- Words, 

Conflict  of  Hopes  and  Fears — Ignorance  of  Geography, 

Survey  of  Imaginary  Difliculties, 

Effect  upon  our  Minds,  .  .  .  . 

Sandy  becomes  a  Dreamer, 

Eoute  to  the  North  laid  out — Objections  Considered, 

Frauds  Practiced  on  Freemen — Passes  Written,     . 

Anxieties  as  the  Time  drew  near, 

Appeals  to  Comrades — A  Presentiment, 

The  Betraj'al  Discovered,  .  .  .  . 

Manner  of  Arresting  us,        .... 

Eosistance  made  by  Henry  Harris — Its  Effects, 

Unique  Speech  of  Mrs.  Freeland,     . 

Our  Sad  Procession  to  Easton, 

Passes  Eaten — The  Examination  at  St.  Michael's, 

No  Evidence  Prodaced — Who  was  the  Betrayer  ? 

Dragged  behind  Horses — The  Jail  a  Eelief, 

A  New  set  of  Tormentors,  .  .  .  . 

Eelease  of  my  Companions, 

Author  taken  out  of  Prison  and  sent  to  Baltimore, 

CHAPTER  XX. 

APPRENTICESHIP    LIFE. 
Notliing  Lost  by  the  Attempt  to  Run  Away, 
Eeasons  for  sending  the  Author  Away, 
Unlooked  for  Clemency  in  Master  Thomas, 
Eeturn  to  Baltimore — Change  in  Little  Tommy, 
Trials  ir>  Gardiner's  Ship  Yard,       .  .  , 

Desperate  Fight  with  tiie  Wliite  Apprentices, 
Conflict  between  Wliite  and  Black  Labor, 
Description  of  the  Outrage,        .  .  ,  . 

Conduct  of  Master  Hugh,     .... 
Testimony  of  a  Colored  Man  Nothing,  .  , 

Spirit  of  Slavery  in  Baltimore, 
Author's  Condition  Improves, 


PAGE, 

265 

267 
2CS 
269 


271 
272 
273 
274 
275 
276 
277 
278 
279 
2S0 
2S1 
282 
2S3 
284 
285 
2?6 
287 
289 
290 
291 
292 
294 
295 
296 
297 
298 
299 
300 
802 


804 
805 
306 
307 
808 
809 
810 
813 
815 
816 
817 
818 


COIS  TENTS. 

New  Associates — Benefits  derived  therefrom, 

How  to  make  a  Contented  Slave,  .  .  . 

CHAPTER  XXL 

MY  ESCAPE    FROM  SLAVERY. 

Manner  of  Escape  not  given — Reasons  why. 

Craftiness  and  Malice  of  Slaveholders, 

"Want  of  Wisdom  in  Publishing  Details  of  Escape, 

Suspfcions  Implied  by  Master  Hugh's  Manner, 

Difficulty  of  Escape — Discontent, 

Author  allowed  to  Hire  his  Time, 

A  Gleam  of  Hope — Hard  Terms,     . 

Author  attends  Camp  Meeting  without  Permission, 

Anger  of  Master  Hugh  thereat, 

Plans  of  Escape  Accelerated  thereby, 

Painful  Thoughts  of  Separation  from  Friends, 

The  Attempt  made — Its  Success, 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

LIBERTY  ATTAINED. 

Author  a  Wanderer  in  New  York — Feelings  on  Reaching  that 

An  Old  Acquaintance  met, 

Unfavorable  Impressions — Loneliness  and  Insecurity, 

Apology  for  Slaves  who  Eeturn  to  their  Masters, 

Make  known  my  Condition — David  Euggles, 

Authors  Marriage — Removal  to  New  Bedford, 

Kindness  of  Nathan  Johnson — Change  of  Name, 

Dark  Notions  of  Northern  Civilization  enlightened, 

Contrast  between  the  North  and  the  South, 

Colored  People  in  New  Bedford, 

An  Incident  Illustrating  their  Spirit,  .  , 

The  Author  finds  Employment, 

Denied  Work  at  his  Trade,  .  .       '     . 

The  first  Winter  at  the  North, 

Proscription  in  the  Church,  .  .  . 

An  Incident  at  the  Communion  Table, 

First  Acquaintance  with  the  Liberator, 

Character  of  its  Editor, 

Prompt  Attendance  at  Anti-Slavery  Meetings, 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INTRODUCED  TO  THE  ABOLITIONISTS. 
Anti-Slavery  Convention  at  Nantucket, 
Author's  First  Speech,        ..... 
Becomes  a  Public  Lecturer,        .... 
Youthful  Enthusiasm,  ..... 

Difficulties  in  his  Position,  .... 

His  Fugitive  Slaveship  Doubted,      .... 
Publishes  his  Narrative — Danger  of  Recapture, 
Advised  not  to  Publish  his  Story,    .... 


XV 

PAGE. 
S19 

820 


•         •         « 

321 

,   822 

•         •        • 

824 

.   825 

•      *      • 

326 

•         • 

.   327 

•         •         • 

828 

•         • 

.   329 

•          •          • 

880 

•         • 

.   332 

■        •         • 

883 

•        • 

.   334 

City, 


336 

337 
338 
339 
340 
341 
342 
844 
345 
346 
347 
848 
349 
350 
351 
353 
854 
355 
856 


357 
358 
359 
360 
861 
862 
863 
2&i 


XVI 


CONTEXTS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TWENTY-ONE  MONTHS  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN. 

Good  arising  out  of  Unpropitious  Events, 

Embarks  fur  England — Denied  Cabin  Passage, 

Mob  on  board  the  Cambria — Happy  Introduction  to  the  British  Public, 

Letter  to  Mr.  Garrison,        .... 

"  We  dont  allow  Niggers  in  here," 

Time  and  Labors  Abroad,     .... 

Freedom  Purchased — Free  Papers, 

Abolitionists  Displeased  with  the  Ransom, 

How  the  Author's  Energies  were  Directed  in  Great  Britain, 

Reception  Speech  in  Finsbury  Chapel,  London, 

Character  of  the  Speech  Defended, 

Causes  Contributing  to  my  Success, 

The  Free  Church  of  Scotland — Its  Position, 

Agitation  of  the  Slavery  Question, 

Debates  in  the  General  Assembly — "Send  back  the  Money," 

Dr.  Cunningham's  Speech— A  Striking  Incident, 

The  World's  Temperance  Convention — Collision  with  Dr.  Cox, 

Proposed  Testimonial  to  the  Author, 

Project  of  Establishing  a  Newspaper, 

Return  to  America — Again  Denied  Cabin  Passage, 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

VARIOUS  INCIDENTS. 
Unexpected  Opposition  to  my  Newspaper  Enterprise, 
The  Objections  to  it— Their  Plausibility  Admitted, 
Motives  for  going  to  Rochester,  .... 

A  Change  of  Opinions — Causes  leading  to  it, 
Prejudice  against  Color — The  "Jim  Crow  Car," 
An  Amusing  Domestic  Scene,         .... 
The  Author  in  High  Company,  .... 

Elevation  of  the  Free  People  of  Color — Pledge  for  the  Future, 

APPENDIX. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  SPEECHES,  ETC. 

Reception  Speech  at  Finsbury  Chapel,  Moorfields,  England,     . 
Letter  to  his  Old  Master,      ..... 

The  Nature  of  Slavery,  .  .  . 

Inhumanity  of  Slavery,        ..... 

What  to  the  Slave  is  the  Fourth  of  July? 

The  Internal  Slave  Trade,     ..... 

The  Slavery  Party,  ...... 

The  Anti-Slaverj  Movement,  .... 


PAGE. 


865 

866 

867 

368 

371 

373 

374 

875 

376 

377 

878 

880 

881 

8S2 

353 

3S5 

387 

888 

889- 

890 


392 
893 
S95 
896 
899 
401 
403 
405 


407 
421 
429 
435 
441 
446 
451 
457 


mTllODUCTIOI. 


~*-^'*~ 


When  a  man  raises  himself  from  the  lowest  condition  in  society 
to  the  highest,  mankind  pay  him  the  tribute  of  their  admiration  ; 
when  he  accomplishes  this  elevation  by  native  energy,  guided  by 
prudence  and  wisdom,  their  admiration  is  increased  ;  but  when  his 
course,  onward  and  upward,  excellent  in  itself,  furthermore  proves 
a  possible,  what  had  hitherto  been  regarded  as  an  impossible,  reform, 
then  he  becomes  a  burning  and  a  shining  light,  on  which  the  aged 
may  look  with  gladness,  the  young  with  hope,  and  the  down-trod- 
den, as  a  representative  of  what  they  may  themselves  be(!ome.  To 
such  a  man,  dear  reader,  it  is  my  privilege  to  introduce  you. 

The  life  of  Frederick  Douglass,  recorded  in  the  pages  which  fol- 
low, is  not  merely  an  example  of  self-elevation  under  the  most 
adverse  circumstances  ;  it  is,  moreover,  a  noble  vindication  of  the 
highest  aims  of  the  American  anti-slavery  movement.  The  real 
object  of  that  movement  is  not  only  to  disenthrall,  it  is,  also,  to  be- 
stow upon  the  negro  the  exercise  of  all  those  rights,  from  the  posses 
fiion  of  which  he  has  been  so  long  debarred. 

But  this  full  recognition  of  the  colored  man  to  the  right,  and  the 
entire  admission  of  the  same  to  the  full  privileges,  political,  religious 
and  social,  of  manhood,  requires  powerful  effort  on  the  part  of  the 
enthralled,  as  well  as  on  the  part  of  those  who  would  disenthrall 
them.  The  people  at  large  must  feel  the  conviction,  as  well  as  ad- 
mit the  abstract  logic,  of  human  equality ;  the  negro,  for  the  first 
time  in  the  world's  history,  brought  in  full  contact  with  high  civ- 
ilization, must  prove  his  title  to  all  that  is  demanded  for  him;  in  the 
teeth  of  unequal  chances,  he  must  prove  himself  equal  to  the  mass 
of  those  who  oppress  him — therefore,  absolutely  superior  to  his  ap- 
parent fate,  and  to  their  relative  ability.     And  it  is  most  cheering 

to  the  friends  of  freedom,  to-day,  that  evidence  of  this  equality  is 

2 


XVlll  INTKODrCTION. 

rapidly  accumulating,  not  from  the  ranks  of  the  half-freed  colored 
people  of  the  free  states,  but  from  the  very  depths  of  slavery  itself; 
the  indestructible  equality  of  man  to  man  is  demonstrated  by  the 
ease  with  which  black  men,  scarce  one  remove  from  barbarism — if 
slavery  can  be  honored  with  such  a  distinction — vault  into  the  high 
places  of  the  most  advanced  and  painfully  acquired  civilization. 
Ward  and  Garnett,  Wells  Brown  and  Pennington,  Loguen  and 
Douglass,  are  banners  on  the  outer  wall,  under  which  abolition 
is  fighting  its  most  successful  battles,  because  they  are  living  ex- 
emplars of  the  practicability  of  the  most  radical  abolitionism;  for, 
they  were  all  of  them  born  to  the  doom  of  slavery,  some  of  .  them 
remained  slaves  until  adult  age,  yet  they  all  have  not  only  won 
equalit}'  to  their  white  fellow  citizens,  in  civil,  religious,  political  and 
social  rank,  but  they  have  also  illustrated  and  adorned  our  com- 
mon country  by  their  genius,  learning  and  eloquence. 

The  characteristics  whereby  Mr.  Douglass  has  won  first  rank 
among  these  remarkable  men,  and  is  still  rising  toward  highest 
rank  among  living  Americans,  are  abundantly  laid  bare  in  the  book 
before  us.  Like  the  autobiography  of  Hugh  Miller,  it  carries  us 
so  far  back  into  early  childhood,  as  to  throw  light  upon  the  question, 
**  when  positive  and  persistent  memory  begins  in  the  human  being." 
And,  like  Hugh  Jliller,  he  must  have  been  a  shy  old  fashioned 
child,  occasionally  oppressed  by  what  he  could  not  well  account 
for,  peering  and  poking  about  among  the  layers  of  right  and  wrong, 
of  tyrant  and  thrall,  and  the  wonderfulness  of  that  hopeless  tide  of 
things  which  brouglit  power  to  one  race,  and  unrequited  toil  to 
another,  until,  finally,  he  stumbled  upon  his  "  first-found  Ammonite," 
hidden  away  down  in  the  depths  of  his  own  nature,  and  which  re- 
vealed to  him  the  fact  that  liberty  and  right,  for  all  men,  were  an- 
tei'ior  to  slavery  and  wrong.  When  his  knowledge  of  the  world  was 
bounded  b3'  the  visible  horizon  on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  and 
while  every  thing  around  him  bore  a  fijec",  lion  stamp,  as  if  it  had 
alwaj's  been  so,  this  was,  for  one  so  young,  a  notable  discovery. 

To  his  uncommon  memor}'',  then,  we  must  add  a  keen  and  accu- 
rate insight  into  men  and  tilings;  an  original  breadth  of  common 
sense  which  enabled  him  to  sec,  and  weigh,  and  compare  whatever 
passed  before  him,  and  which  kindled  a  desire  to  search  out  and 
define  their  relations  to  other  things  not  so  patent,  but  Avhich  never 


INTKODUUTION.  xix 

succumbed  to  the  marvelous  nor  the  supernatural;  a  s'acred  thirst 
for  liberty  and  for  learning,  first  as  a  means  of  attaining  liberty, 
then  as  an  end  in  itself  most  desirable  ;  a  "will;  an  unfaltering  enero-y 
and  determination  to  obtain  what  his  soul  pronounced  desirable  ;  a 
majestic  self-hood;  determined  courage;  a  deep  and  agonizing 
sympathy  with  his  embruted,  crushed  and  bleeding  fellow  slaves, 
and  an  extraordinary  depth  of  passion,  together  with  that  rare  al- 
liance between  passion  and  intellect,  which  enables  the  former, 
when  deeply  rouse^l,  to  excite,  develop  and  sustain  the  latter. 

With  these  original  gifts  in  view,  let  us  look  at  his  schooling  ; 
the  fearful  discipline  through  which  it  pleased  God  to  prepare  him 
for  the  high  calling  on  which  he  has  since  entered — the  advocacy 
of  emancii^ation  by  the  people  who  are  not  slaves.  And  for  this  I 
■  special  mission,  his  plantation  education  was  better  than  any  he  » 
could  have  acquired  in  any  lettered  school.  "What  he  needed,  was 
facts  and  experiences,  welded  to  acutely  wrought  up  sympathies, 
and  these  he  could  not  elsewhere  have  obtained,  in  a  manner  so 
peculiarly  adapted  to  his  nature.  His  physical  being  was  well 
trained,  also,  running  w^ild  until  advanced  into  boyhood;  hard 
work  and  light  diet,  thereafter,  and  a  skill  in  handicraft  in  youth. 

For  his  special  mission,  then,  this  was,  considered  in  connection 
with  his  natural  gifts,  a  good  schooling ;  and,  for  his  special  mission, . 
he  doubtless  "left  school"  just  at  the  proper  moment.  Had  he  re- 
mained longer  in  slavery — had  he  fretted  under  bonds  until  the 
ripening  of  manhood  and  its  passions,  until  the  drear  agony  of 
slave-wife  and  slave-children  had  been  piled  upon  his  already  bitter 
experiences — then,  not  onl}^  would  his  own  history  have  had  another 
termination,  but  the  drama  of  American  slavery  would  have  been 
essentially  varied;  for  I  cannot  resist  the  belief,  that  the  boy  who 
learned  to  read  and  write  as  he  did,  who  taught  his  fellow  slaves 
these  precious  acquirements  as  he  did,  who  plotted  for  their  mu- 
tual escape  as  he  did,  would,  wljen  a  man  at  bay,  sti-ike  a  blow 
which  would  make  slavery  reel  and  stagger.  Furtliermore,  blows 
and  insults  he  bore,  at  the  moment,  without  resentment;  deep  but 
suppressed  emotion  rendered  him  insensible  to  their  sting  ;  but  it 
was  afterward,  when  the  memory  of  them  went  seething  through 
his  brair  breeding  a  fiery  indignation  at  his  injured  self-hood,  that 
the   re.'      'i  came  to  resist,  and  the  ^    "  ^^or}  when  to  resist,  and 


XX  INTKODUCTION. 

the  plot  laid,  how  t<3  resist;  and  he  always  kept  his  self-pledged 
"vord.  In  what  he  undertook,  in  this  line,  he  looked  fate  in  the  face, 
and  had  a  cool,  keen  look  at  the  relation  of  means  to  ends.  Henrv 
Bibb,  to  avoid  chastisement,  strewed  his  master's  bed  with  charmed 
leaves — and  was  xvhipped.  Frederick  Douglass  quietly  pockei-si  a 
like  fetiche,  compared  his  muscles  with  those  of  Covey — and  %vJnp- 
ped  him. 

In  the  history  of  his  life  in  bondage,  we  find,  well  developed, 
that  inherent  and  continuous  energy  of  character  which  will  ever 
render  him  distinguished.  "What  his  hand  found  to  do,  he  did 
with  his  might;  even  while  conscious  that  he  was  wronged  out  of  - 
his  daily  earnings,  he  worked,  and  worked  hard.  At  his  daily  la- 
bor he  went  with  a  will;  with  keen,  well  set  eye,  brawny  chest, 
lithe  figure,  and  fair  sweep  of  arm,  he  would  have  been  king  among 
calkers,  had  that  been  his  mission. 

It  must  not  be  overlooked,  in  this  glance  at  his  education,  that 
Mr.  Douglass  lacked  one  aid  to  which  so  many  men  of  mark  have 
been  deeply  indebted — he  had  neither  a  mother's  care,  nor  a  mother's 
culture,  save  that  which  slavery  grudgingly  meted  out  to  him. 
Bitter  nurse !  may  not  even  her  features  relax  with  human  feeling, 
when  she  gazes  at  such  offspring  !  How  susceptible  he  was  to  the 
kindly  influences  of  mother-culture,  may  be  gathered  from  his  own 
words,  on  page  57  :  "It  has  been  a  life-long,  standing  grief  to  me, 
that  I  know  so  little  of  my  mother,  and  that  I  was  so  early  separa- 

» 

ted  from  her.  The  counsels  of  her  love  must  have  been  beneficial 
to  me.  The  side  view  of  her  face  is  imaged  on  my  memory,  and  I 
take  few  steps  in  life,  without  feeling  her  presence  ;  but  the  image 
is  mute,  and  I  have  no  striking  words  of  hers  treasured  up." 

From  the  depths  of  chattel  slavery  in  Maryland,  our  author 
escaped  into  the  caste-slavery  of  the  north,  in  New  Bedford,  Massa- 
chusetts. Here  he  found  oppression  assuming  another,  and  hardly 
less  bitter,  form ;  of  that  very  handicraft  which  the  greed  of  slave- 
ry had  taught  him,  his  half-freedom  denied -him  th(}  exercise  for  an 
honest  living  ;  he  found  himself  one  of  a  class — free  colored  men — 
whose  position  he  has  described  in  the  following  words : 

"Aliens  are  we  in  our  native  land.  The  fundamental  principles 
of  the  republic,  to  which  tlie  humblest  white  man,  whether  born 
here    or  elsewhere,  may  appeal  with   confidence,  in  the   hope   of 


mxRODUCTiON.  xxi 

avratening  a  favorable  response,  are  held. to  be  inapplicable  to  us. 
The  glorious  doctrines  of  your  revolutionary  fathers,  and  the  more 
glorious  teachings  of  the  Son  of  God,  are  construed  and  applied 
against  us.  "We  are  literally  scourged  beyond  the  beneficent  range 
of  both  authorities,  human  and  divine.  *  *  *  *  American 
humanity  hates  us,  scorns  us,  disowns  and  denies,  in  a  thousand 
ways,  our  very  personalit}^  The  outspread  wing  of  American 
Christianity-,  appai'ently  broad  enough  to  give  shelter  to  a  perishing 
world,  refuses  to  cover  us.  To  us,  its  bones  are  brass,  and  its  fea- 
tures iron.  In  running  thither  for  shelter  and  succor,  we  have  only 
fled  from  the  hungry  blood-hound  to  the  devouring  wolf — from  a 
corrupt  and  selfish  world,  to  a  hollow  and  h^^pocritical  church." — ^ 
Speech  before  American  ajid  Foreign  Anti-Slavery  Society,  May,  1854. 

Four  years  or  more,  from  1837  to  1841,  he  struggled  on,  in  New 
Bedford,  sawing  wood,  rolling  casks,  or  doing  what  labor  he  might, 
to  support  himself  and  young  family ;  four  years  he  brooded  over 
the  scars  which  slavery  and  semi-slavery  had  inflicted  upon  his  body 
and  soul;  and  then,  with  his  wounds  yet  unhealed,  he  fell  among 
the  Garrisonians — a  glorious  waif  to  those  most  ardent  reformers. 
It  happened  one  day,  at  Xantucket,  that  he,  difiidently  and  reluc- 
tantly, was  led  to  address  an  anti-slavery  meeting.  He  was  about 
the  age  when  the  younger  Pitt  entered  the  House  of  Common<»; 
like  Pitt,  too,  he  stood  up  a  born  orator. 

William  Lloyd  Garrison,  who  was  happily  present,  writes  thus 
of  Mr.  Douglass'  maiden  effort ;  "  I  shall  never  forget  his  first  speeoH 
at  the  convention — the  extraordinary  emotion  it  excited  in  my  own 
mind — the  powei'ful  impression  it  created  upon  a  crowded  auditory, 
completely  taken  by  surprise.  *  *  *  j  think  I  never  hated 
slavery  so  intensely  as  at  that  moment;  certainly,  my  perception 
of  the  enormous  outrage  which  is  inflicted  by  it  on  the  godlike  na- 
ture of  its  victims,  was  rendered  far  more  clear  than  ever.  There 
stood  one  in  phj'sical  proportions  and  stature  commanding  and 
exact — in  intellect  richly  endowed — in  natural  eloquence  a  pro- 
digy."* 

It  is  of  interest  to  compare  Mr.  Douglass's  account  of  this  meet- 
ing with  Mr.  Garrison's.  Of  the  two,  I  think  the  latter  the  most 
correct.     It  must  have  been  a  grand  burst  of  eloquence !     The  pent 

♦Letter,  Introduction  to  Life  of  Frederick  Douglass,  Boston,  1841!. 


XXll  INTKODUCTION. 

up  agony,  indignation  and  pathos  of  an  abused  and  harrowed  boy- 
hood and  youth,  bursting  out  in  all  their  freshness  and  overwhelm- 
ing earnestness ! 

This  unique  introduction  to  its  great  leader,  led  immediately  to  the 
emplo3"ment   of  Mr.  Douglass  as  an  agent  by  the  American  Anti- 
Slavery  Society.     So  far  as  his  self-relying  and  independent  char- 
acter would  permit,  he  became,  after  the  strictest  sect,  a  Garrisonian. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  he  formed  a  complement  which  they 
needed,  and   they  were    a  complement   equally  necessary  to  his 
"make-up."     With  his  deep  and  keen  sensitiveness  to  wrong,  and 
his  wonderful  memory,  he  came  from  the  land  of  bondage  full  of  its 
woes  and  its  evils,  and  painting  them  in  characters  of  living  light ; 
and,  on  his  part,  he  found,  told  out  in  sound  Saxon  phrase,  all  those 
principles  of  justice  and  right  and  liberty,  which  had  dimly  brooded 
over  the  dreams  of  his  youth,  seeking  definite  forms  and  verbal  ex- 
pression.    It  must  have  been  an  electric  flashing  of  thought,  and  a 
knitting  of  soul,  granted  to  but  few  in  this  life,  and  will  be  a  life- 
long memory  to  those  who  participated  in  it.     In  the  society,  more- 
over, of  Wendell  Phillips,  Edmund  Quincj',  William  Lloyd  Garri- 
son, and  other  men  of  earnest  faith  and  refined  culture,  Mr.  Doug- 
lass enjoyed  the  high  advantage  of  their  assistance  and  counsel  in 
the  labor  of  self-culture,  to  which  he  now  addressed  himself  witli 
wonted  energy.     Yet,  these  gentlemen,  although  proud  of  Freder- 
ick Douglass,  failed  to   fathom,  and  bring  out  to  the  light  of  day, 
the  highest  qualities  of  his  mind;  the  force  of  their  own  education 
stood  in  their  own  way  :  they  did  not  delve  into  the  mind  of  a  col- 
ored man  for  capacities  which  the  pride  of  race  led  them  to  believe 
to  be  restricted  to   their  own  Saxon  blood.     Bitter  and  vindictive 
sarcasm,  irresistible  mimicry,  and  a  pathetic  narrative  of  his  own 
experiences  of  slavery,  were  the  intellectual   manifestations  which 
they  encouraged  him  to  exhibit  on  the  platform  or  in  the  lecture 
desk. 

A  visit  to  England,  in  1845,  threw  Mr.  Douglass  among  men  and 
women  of  earnest  souls  and  high  culture,  and  who,  moreover,  had 
never  drank  of  the  bitter  waters  of  American  caste.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  he  breathed  an  atmosphere  congenial  to  the  long- 
ings of  his  spirit,  and  felt  his  manhood  free  and  unrestricted.  The 
cordial  and  manly  greetings  of  the  British  and  Irish  audiences  in 


IXTEODUCTION.  XXni 

public,   and   the  refinement  and   elegance  of  the  social  circles  in 
which  lie  mingled,  not  only  as  an  eqnal,  but  as  a  recognized  man  of 
genius,  were,   doubtless   genial  and  pleasant   resting  places  in  his 
hitiierto  thorny  and  troubled  journey  through  life.     There  are  joy?  j 
on  the   earth,  and,  to  the  wayfaring  fugitive  from  American  slavery  ;  j 
or  American  caste,  this  is  one  of  them. 

But  his  sojourn  in  England  was  more  than  a  joy  to  Mr,  Douglass.    ^~ 
Like  the  platform  at  Nantucket,  it  awakened  him  to  the  conscious-    | 
ness  of  new  powers  that  lay  in  him.     From  the  pupilage  of  Garri-   ' 
sonism  he  rose  to  the  dignity  of  a  teacher  and  a  thinker ;  his  opinions 
on  the  broader  aspects  of  the  great  American  question  were  earn- 
estly and  incessantly  sought,   from  various  points  of  view,  and  he 
must,  perforce,  bestir  himself  to  give  suitable  answer.     With  that 
prompt   and  truthful  perception  which  has  led  their  sisters  in  all 
ages  of  the  world  to  gather  at  the  feet  and  support  the  hands  of 
reformers,  the  gentlewomen  of  England  *  were  foremost  to  encourage 
and  strengthen  him  to   carve   out  for  himself  a  path  fitted  to  his 
powers  and  energies,  in  the   life-battle   against  slavery  and  caste 
to  which  he  Vv'as  pledged.     And  one  stirring  thought,  inseparable 
from  the  British  idea  of  the  evangel  of  freedom,  must  have  smote 
his  ear  from  every  side — 

"Hereditary  bondmen  !  know  ye  not 
Who  would  be  free,  themselves  must  strike  the  blow  ?  " 

The  result  of  this  visit  was,  that  on  his  return  to  the  United 
States,  he  established  a  newspaper.  This  proceeding  was  sorely 
against  the  wishes  and  the  advice  of  the  leaders  of  the  American 
Anti-Slavery  Society,  but  our  author  had  fully  grown  up  to  the  con- 
viction of  a  truth  which  they  had  once  promulged,  but  now  forgot- 
ten, to  wit :  that  in  their  own  elevation — self-elevation — colox'ed 
men  have  a  blow  to  strike  "on  their  own  hook,"  against  slavery* 
and  caste.     Differing  from  his  Boston  friends  in  this  matter,  diffi- 

*  One  of  these  ladies,  impelled  by  the  same  noble  spirit  which  carried  Miss  Night- 
infrale  to  Scutari,  has  devoted  her  time,  her  untiring  energies,  to  a  great  extent  her 
ine.iTis.  and  her  higli  literary  abilities,  to  the  advancement  and  support  of  Frederick 
Dn-!_-lrv?s'  Paper,  the  only  organ  of  the  downtrodden,  edited  and  published  by  one 
of  Llii  in.scives,  in  the  United  States. 


XXI V  IMTEODUCTION. 

dent  in  his  own  abilities,  reluctant  at  their  dissuadings,  how  beau- 
tiful is  the  loyalty  with  which  he  still  clung  to  their  principles  in 
all  things  else,  and  even  in  this. 

Now  came  the  trial  hour.  Without  cordial  support  from  any  large 
body  of  men  or  party  on  this  side  the  Atlantic,  and  too  far  distant 
in  space  and  immediate  interest  to  expect  mitch  more,  after  the 
much  already  done,  on  the  other  side,  he  stood  up,  almost  alone,  to 
the  arduous  labor  and  heavy  expenditure  of  editor  and  lecturer. 
The  Garrison  party,  to  which  he  still  adhered,  did  not  want  a  colored 
newspaper — there  was  an  odor  of  caate  about  it ;  the  Liberty  party 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  give  warm  support  to  a  man  who 
smote  their  principles  as  with  a  hammer;  and  the  wide  gulf  which 
separated  the  free  colored  people  from  the  Garrisonians,  also  sep^ 
arated  them  from  their  brother,  Frederick  Douglass. 

The  arduous  nature  of  his  labors,  from  the  date  of  the  establish- 
ment of  his  paper,  may  be  estimated  by  the  fact,  that  anti-slavery 
papers  in  the  United  States,  even  while  the  organs  of,  and 
when  supported  by,  anti-slavery  parties,  have,  with  a  single  ex- 
ception, failed  to  pay  expenses.  Mr.  Douglass  has  maintained,  and 
does  maintain,  his  paper  without  the  support  of  any  party,  and 
even  in  the  teeth  of  the  opposition  of  those  from  whom  he  had  rea- 
son to  ex']->ect  counsel  and  encouragement.  He  has  been  compelled, 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  and  almost  constantly,  during  the  past 
seven  years,  to  contribute  matter  to  its  columns  as  editor,  and  to 
raise  funds  for  its  support  as  lecturer.  It  is  within  bounds  to  say, 
that  he  has  expended  tw^elve  thousand  dollars  of  his  own  hard  earned 
Tnonoy,  in  publishing  this  paper,  a  larger  sum  than  has  been  contrib' 
uted  by  any  one  individual  for  the  general  advancement  of  the 
colored  people.  There  had  been  many  other  papers  published  and 
edited  by  colored  men,  beginning  as  far  back  as  182Y,  when  the 
Rev.  Samuel  E.  Cornish  and  John  B.  Russworm  (a  graduate  of 
•  Bowdoin  college,  and  afterward  Governor  of  Cape  Palmas)  pub- 
lished the  Freedom's  Journal,  in  Kew  York  city ;  probably  not  less 
than  one  hundred  newspaper  enterfirises  have  been  started  in  the 
United  States,  by  free  colored  men,  born  free,  and  some  of  them  of  lib- 
eral education  and  fair  talents  for  this  work ;  but,  one  after  anotner, 
they  have  fallen  through,  although,  in  several  instances,  joiti-slavery 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV 

friends  contributed  to  their  support.*  It  had  almost  been  given 
'ip,  as  an  impracticable  thing,  to  maintain  a  colored  newspaper, 
when  Mr.  Douglass,  with  fewest  early  advantages  of  all  his  com- 
petitors, essayed,  and  has  proved,  the  thing  perfectly  practicable, 
and,  moreover,  of  great  public  benefit.  This  paper,  in  addition  to 
its  power  in  holding  up  the  hands  of  those  to  whom  it  is  especially 
devoted,  also  affords  irrefutable  evidence  of  the  justice,  safety  and 
practicability  of  Immediate  Emancipation;  it  further  proves  the 
immense  loss  which  slavery  inflicts  on  the  land  while  it  dooms  such 
energies  as  his  to  the  hereditary  degradation  of  slavery. 

It  has  been  said  in  this  Introduction,  that  Mr.  Douglass  had  raised 
himself  by  his  own  eff"orts  to  the  highest  position  in  societ}''.  As  a 
successful  editor,  in  our  land,  he  occupies  this  position.  Our  editors 
rule  the  land,  and  he  is  one  of  them.  As  an  orator  and  thinker, 
his  position  is  equally  high,  in  the  opinion  of  his  countr3'men.  If  a 
stranger  in  the  United  States  would  seek  its  most  distinguished 
men — the  movers  of  public  opinion — he  will  find  their  names  men- 
tioned, and  their  movements  chronicled,  under  the  head  of  "By 
Magnetic  Telegraph,"  in  the  daily  papers.  The  keen  caterers  for 
the  public  attention,  set  down,  in  this  Column,  such  men  only  as 
have  won  high  mark  in  the  public  esteem.  During  the  past  win- 
ter— 1854-5 — very  frequent  mention  of  Frederick  Douglass  was 
made  under  this  head  in  the  daily  papers  ;  his  name  glided  as 
often — this  week  from  Chicago,  next  week  from  Boston — over  the 
lightning  wires,  as  the  name  of  any  other  man,  of  whatever  note. 
To  no  man  did  the  people  more  widely  nor  more  earnestly  say, 
"  Tell  me  thy  thought  !  "  And,  somehow  or  other,  revolution  seemed 
to  follow  in  his  wake.  His  were  not  the  mere  words  of  eloquence 
which  Kossuth  speaks  of,  that  delight  the  ear  and  then  pass  away. 
No !  They  were  wor^-able,  c?o-able  words,  that  brought  forth  fruits 
in  the  revolution  in  Illinois,  and  in  the  passage  of  the  franchise  reso- 
lutions by  the  Assembly  of  New  York. 

And  the  secret  of  his  power,  what  is  it?  He  is  a  Representative 
American  man — a  type  of  his  countrymen.  Naturalists  tell  us  that 
a  full  grown  man  is  a  resultant  or  representative  of  all  animated 
nature  on  this  globe  ;  beginning  with  the  early  embryo  state,  then 

*Mr.  Stephen  Myers,  of  Albany,  deserves  mention  as  one  of  the  most  persevering 
among  the  colored  editorial  fraternity. 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION. 

representing  the  lowest  forms  of  organic  life,*  and  passing  through 
every  stibordliiate  grade  or  t3'pe,  until  he  reaches  the  last  and  high- 
est— manhood.  In  like  manner,  and  to  the  fullest  extent,  has  Fred- 
erick Douglass  passed  through  exevj  gradation  of  rank  comprised 
in  our  national  make-up,  and  bears  upon  his  person  and  upon  his 
soul  every  thing  that  is  American.  And  he  has  not  only  full  sym- 
pathy with  every  thing  American  ;  his  proclivity  or  bent,  to  active 
toil  and  visible  progress,  are  in  the  strictly  national  direction,  de- 
lighting to  outstrip  "  all  creation." 

Nor  have  the  natural  gifts,  already  named  as  his,  lost  anything 
by  his  severe  training.  When  unexcited,  his  mental  processes  are 
probably  slow,  but  singularly  clear  in  perception,  and  wide  in  vision, 
the  unfailing  memory  bringing  up  all  the  facts  in  their  every  as- 
pect; incongruities  he  lays  hold  of  incontinently,  and  holds  up  on  the 
edge  of  his  keen  and  telling  wit.  But  this  wit  never  descends  to 
frivolity  ;  it  is  rigidly-  in  the  keeping  of  his  truthful  common  sense, 
and  always  used  in  illustration  or  proof  of  some  point  which  could 
not  so  readily  be  reached  any  other  way.  "  Beware  of  a  Yankee 
when  he  is  feeding,"  is  a  shaft  that  strikes  home  in  a  matter  never 
so  laid  bare  by  satire  before.  "  The  Garrisonian  views  of  disunion, 
if  carried  to  a  successful  issue,  would  onl}^  place  the  people  of  the 
north  in  the  same  relation  to  American  slavery  which  they  now  bear 
to  the  slavery  of  Cuba  or  tlie  Brazils,"  is  a  statement,  in  a  few  words, 
which  contains  the  result  and  the  evidence  of  an  aro-ument  which 
might  cover  pages,  but  could  not  carry  stronger  conviction,  n.or  be 
stated  in  less  pregnable  form.  In  proof  of  this,  I  may  say,  that  hav- 
ing been  submitted  to  the  attention  of  the  Garrisouians  in  print, 
in  March,  it  was  repeated  before  them  at  their  business  meeting  in 
May — the  platform,  par  excellence,  on  which  they  invite  free  fi;'ht, 
a  Voutrance,  to  all  comers.  It  was  t'iven  out  in  the  clear,  rinffinor 
tones,  whei-ewith  the  hall  of  shields  was  wont  to  resound  of  old, 
yet  neither  Garrison,  nor  Phillips,  nor  May,  nor  Remond,  nor  Fos- 
ter, nor  Burleigh,  with  his  subtle  steel  of  "theice  brook's  temper," 
ventured  to  break  a  lance  upon  it!  The  doctrine  of  the  dissolu- 
tion  of  the  Union,  as  a  means  for  the  abolition  of  American  slaverj^ 
was  silenced  upon  the  lips  that  gave  it  birth,  and  in  the  presence 

*  The  German  physiologists  have  oven  discovered  vegetable  matter — starch — in 
the  human  body.    See  Med.  Chirurgical  Eev.,  Oct.,  1854,  p.  8S9. 


INTKODUCTION.  XXVll 

of  an  array  of  defenders  who  compose  the  keenest  intellects  in 
the  land, 
i  \  "  The  man  u'ho  is  rigid  is  a  lyiajority"  is  an  aphorism  struck  out  by 
Mr.  Douglass  in  that  great  gathering  of  the  friends  of  freedom,  at 
Pittsburgh,  in  185'2,  where  he  towered  among  the  highest,  because, 
with  abilities  inferior  to  none,  and  moved  more  deeply  than  any, 
there  was  neither  policy  nor  party  to  trammel  the  outpourings  of 
his  soul.  Thus  Ave  find,  opposed  to  all  the  disadvantages  which  a 
black  man  in  the  United  States  labors  and  struggles  under,  is  this 
one  vantage  ground — when  the  chance  comes,  and  the  audience 
where  he  may  have  a  say,  he  stands  forth  the  freest,  most  deeply 
moved  and  most  earnest  of  all  men. 

It  has  been  said  of  Mr.  Douglass,  that  his  descriptive  and  declama- 
tory powers,  admitted  to  be  of  the  very  highest  order,  take  prece- 
dence of  his  logical  force.     Whilst  the  schools  might  have  trained 
him  to  the  exhibition  of  the  formulas  of  deductive  logic,  nature  and 
circumstances  forced  him  into  the  exercise  of  the  higher  faculties 
required  by  induction.     The  first  ninety  pages  of  this  "Life  in  Bon- 
dage," afford  specimens  of  observing,  comparing,  and  careful  classi- 
fying, of  such  superior  character,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  them 
the  results  of  a  child's  thinking ;  he  questions  the  earth,  and  the 
children   and  the  slaves  around  him  again  and  again,  and  finally 
looks  to  "  God  in  the  shy"  for  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  the  un- 
natural thing,  slavery.     "  Yere,  if  indeed  thou  art,  wherefore  dost  thou 
suffer  us  to  he  slain  ?  "  is  the  only  prayer  and  worship  of  the  God- 
forsaken Dodos  in  the  heart  of  Africa.     Almost  the  same  was  his 
prayer.     One  of  his  earliest  observations  was  that  Vv^hite  children 
should   know  their  ages,  while  the  colored  children  were  ignorant 
of  theirs ;  and  the  songs  of  the  slaves  grated  on  his  inmost  soul,  be- 
cause a  something  told  him  that  harmony  in  sound,  and  music  of 
the  spirit,  could  not  consociate  with  miserable  degradation. 

To  such  a  mind,  the  ordinary  processes  of  logical  deduction  are 
like  proving  that  two  and  two  make  four.  Mastering  the  interme- 
diate steps  by  an  intuitive  glance,  or  recurring  to  them  as  Ferguson 
resorted  to  geometry,  it  goes  down  to  the  deeper  relation  of  things, 
and  brings  out  what  may  seem,  to  some,  mere  statements,  but  which 
are  new  and  brilliant  generalizations,  each  resting  on  a  broad  and 
stable  basis.     Thus,  Chief  Justice  Marshall  gave  his  decisions,  an<? 


XXVlll  INTRODUCTION. 

then  told  Brother  Story  to  look  up  the  authorities— anu  they  nevti 
differed  from  liim.  Thus,  also,  ia  his  "  Lecture  on  th  ^  Anti-^"lavery 
Movement,"  delivered  before  the  Rochester  Ladies'  An  i-Slavery  So- 
ciety, Mi\  Douglass  presents  a  mass  of  thought,  which,  without  any 
showy  display  cf  logic  on  his  part,  requires  an  exercise  of  the  rea- 
soning faculties  of  the  readier  to  keep  pace  with  him.  And  his 
"Claims  of  th'*  Negro  Ethnologically  Considered,"  is  fuL  of  new 
and  frebh  thoughts  on  Mie  dawning   science  of  race-history. 

If,  as  has  been  stated,  his  intellection  is  slow,  when  unexclted,  it 
is  most  prompt  and  rapid  when  he  is  thoroughly  aroused.  Memory, 
logic,  wit,  sarcasm,  invective,  pathos  and  bold  imagery  of  rare  struc- 
tural beauty,  well  up  as  from  a  copious  fountain,  yet  each  in  its 
proper  place,  and  contributing  to  form  a  whole,  grand  in  itself,  yet 
complete  in  the  minutest  proportions.  It  is  most  difficult  to  hedge 
him  in  a  corner,  for  his  positions  are  taken  so  deliberately,  that  it 
is  rare  to  find  a  point  in  them  undefended  aforethought.  Professor 
Reason  tells  me  the  following :  "  On  a  recent  visit  of  a  public  na- 
ture, to  Philadelphia,  and  in  a  meeting  composed  mostly  of  his  col- 
ored brethren,  Mr.  Douglass  proposed  a  comparison  of  views  in  the 
matters  of  the  relations  and  duties  of  '  our  people  ;'  he  holding  that 
prejudice  was  the  result  of  condition,  and  could  be  conquered  by 
the  efforts  of  the  degraded  themselves.  A  gentleman  present,  dis- 
tinguished for  logical  acumen  and  subtlety,  and  who  had  devoted 
no  small  portion  of  the  last  twent3'-five  years  to  the  study  and  elu- 
cidation of  this  very  question;  held  the  opposite  view,  that  preju- 
dice is  innate  and  unconquerable.  He  terminated  a  series  of  well 
dove-tailed,  Socratic  questions  to  Mr.  Douglass,  with  the  following: 
'If  the  legislature  at  Harrisburgh  shouldawaken, to-morrow  morn 
ing,  and  find  each  man's  skin  turned  black  and  his  hair  woolly,  what 
could  they  do  to  remove  prejudice?'  'Immediately  pass  laws  en- 
titling black  men  to  all  civil,  political  and  social  privileges,'  was 
the  instant  reply — and  the  questioning  ceased." 

The  most  remarkable  mental  phenomenon  in  Mr.  Douglass,  is  his 
style  in  writing  and  speaking.  In  March,  1855,  he  delivered  an  ad- 
dress in  the  assembly  chamber  before  the  members  of  the  legislature 
of  tlie  state  of  New  York.  An  eye  witness  *  describes  the  crowded 
and  most  intelligent  audience,  and  their  rapt  attention  to  the  speaker^ 

*Mr.  "Wm.  II.  Topp,  of  Albany. 


INTKODUCTION.  XXIX 

as  the  grandest  scene  he  ever  witnessed  in  the  capitol.  Among 
those  whose  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  speaker  full  two  hours  and  a 
half,  were  Thurlpw  Weed  and  Lieutenant  Governor  Raj^mond ;  the 
latter,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  address,  exclaimed  to  a  friend,  "  I 
would  give  twenty  thousand  dollars,  if  I  could  deliver  that  address 
in  that  manner."  Mr,  Raymond  is  a  first  class  graduate  of  Dart- 
mouth, a  rising  politician,  ranking  foremost  in  the  legislature  ;  of 
course,  his  ideal  of  oratory  must  be  of  .the  most  polished  and  finished 
description. 

The  style  of  Mr.  Douglass  in  writing,  is  to  me  an  intellectual  puz-l 
zle.     The  strength,  affluence  and  terseness  may  easily  be  accounted  ' 
for,  because  the  style  of  a  man  is  the  man ;  but  how  are  we  to  ac- 
count for  that  rare  polish  in  his  style  of  writing,  which,  most  criti- 
cally examined,  seems  the  result  of  careful  early  culture  among  the . 
best  classics  of  our  language;  it  equals  if  it  do  not  surpass  the  style 
of  Hugh  Miller,  which  was  the  wonder  of  the  British  literary  pub- 
lic, imtil  he  unraveled  the  mystery  in  the  most  interesting  of  auto- 
biographies.    But  Frederick  Douglass  was  still  calking  the  seams 
of  Baltimore   clippers,  and  had  only  written  a  "pass,"  at  the  age 
when  Miller's  style  was  already  formed. 

■  I  asked  William  Whipper,  of  Pennsylvania,  the  gentleman  allu- 
ded to  above,  whether  he  thought  Mr.  Douglass's  power  inherited 
from  the  Negroid,  or  from  what  is  called  the  Caucasian  side  of  his 
make-up  ?  After  some  reflection,  he  frankly  answered,  "  I  must 
admit,  although  sorry  to  do  so,  that  the  Caucasian  predominates." 
At  that  time,  I  almost  agreed  with  him ;  but,  facts  narrated  in  the 
first  part  of  this  work,  throw  a  different  light  on  this  interesting 
question. 

We  are  left  in  the  dark  as  to  who  was  the  paternal  ancestor  of 
our  author;  a  fact  which  generally  holds  good  of  the  Romuluses 
and  Remuses  who  are  to  inaugurate  the  new  birth  of  our  republic. 
In  the  absence  of  testimon}'  from  the  Caucasian  side,  we  must  see 
what   evidence  is  given  on  the  other  side  of  the  ho'is'^. 

"  My  grandmother,  though  advanced  in  years,  *  *  *  -^v-as 
yet  a  woman  of  power  and  spirit.  She  was  marvelously  straight 
in  figure,  elastic  and  muscular."  (p.  46.) 

After  describing  her  skill  in  constructing  nets,  her  perseverance 
in   using  them,  and  her  wide-spread  fame  in  the  agricultural  way 


XXX  INTRODUCTiON. 

he  adds,  "It  happened  to  her — as  it  will  happen  to  any  careful  an*' 
thrift}'  person  residing  in  an  ignorant  and  improvident  neighbor- 
hood— to  enjoy  the  reputation  of  being  born  to  good  luck."  And 
his  grandmother  "v\as  a  black  woman. 

"My  mother  was  tall,  and  finely  proj^ortioned ;  of  deep  black, 
glossy  complexion  ;  had  regular  features  ;  and  among  other  slaves 
was  remarkably  sedate  in  her  manners."  "  Being  a  field  hand,  she 
was  obliged  to  walk  twelve  miles  and  return,  between  nightfall  and 
daybreak,  to  see  her  children  "  (p.  54.)  "I  shall  never  forget  the 
indescribable  expression  of  her  countenance  when  I  told  her  that  I 
had  had  no  food  since  morning.  *  «  «  There  was  pity  in  her 
glance  at  me,  and  a  fiery  indignation  at  Aunt  Katy  at  the  same 
time;  *  *  *  *  ghe  read  Aunt  Katy  a  lecture  which  she  never 
forgot."  (p.  56.)  "  I  learned,  after  my  mother's  death,  that  she  could 
read,  and  that  she  was  the  o}ily  one  of  all  the  slaves  and  colored 
people  in  Tuckahoe  who  enjoyed  that  advantage.  How  she  ac- 
quired this  knowledge,  I  kuov/  not,  for  Tuckahoe  is  the  last  place 
in  the  world  where  she  would  be  apt  to  find  facilities  for  learning." 
(p.  57.)  "There  is,  in  ' Frichard's  Natural  History  of  Man^  the 
head  of  a  figure — on  page  157 — the  features  of  which  so  resemble 
those  of  my  mother,  that  I  often  recur  to  it  with  something  of  the 
feeling  which  I  suppose  others  experience  when  looking  upon  the 
pictures  of  dear  departed  ones."  (p.  52.) 

The  head  alluded  to  is  copied  from  the  statue  of  Ramses  the 
Great,  an  Egj-ptian  king  of  the  nineteenth  dynasty.  The  authors 
of  the  "Types  of  Mankind"  give  a  side  view  of  the  same  on  page 
148,  remarking  that  the  profile,  "  like  Napoleon's,  is  superbly  Euro- 
pean! "  The  nearness  of  its  resemblance  to  Mr.  Douglass'  mother, 
rests  upon  the  evidence  of  his  memory,  and  judging  from  his  almost 
marvelous  feats  of  recollection  of  foi-ms  and  outlines  recorded  in 
this  book,  this  testimony  may  be  admitted. 

These  facts  show  that  for  his  energy'-,  perseverance,  eloquence,  in 
vective,  sagacitj^  and  wide  s^-mpath}-,  he  is  indebted  to  his  negro 
blood.  The  very  marvel  of  his  st^'le  would  seem  to  be  a  develop- 
ment of  that  other  marvel, — how  his  mother  lean^ed  to  read.  The 
versatility  of  talent  which  he  wields,  in  common  with  Dumas,  Ira 
Aldridge,  and  Miss  Greenfield,  would  seem  to  be  the  result  of  the 
grafting  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  on  good,  original,  negro  stock.     If  the 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXI 

friends  of  "Caucasus"  choose  to  claim,  for  that  region,  what  re- 
mains after  this  analysis — to  wit:  combination — they  are  welcome 
to  it.  They  will  forgive  me  for  reminding  them  that  the  term 
"Caucasian"  is  dropped  by  recent  writers  on  Ethnology  ;  for  the 
people  about  Mount  Caucasus,  are,  and  have  ever  been,  Mongols. 
The  great  "  white  race"  now  seek  paternity,  according  to  Dr.  Pick- 
ering, in  xYrabia — "Arida  tutrix"  of  the  best  breed  of  horses  &c. 
Keep  on,  gentlemen  ;  you  will  find  yourselves  in  Africa,  by-and-by. 
The  Egyptians,  like  the  Americans,  were  a  mixed  race,  with  some  ne- 
gro blood  circling  around  the  throne,  as  well    as  in  the  mud  hovels. 

This  is  the  proper  place  to  remark  of  our  author,  that  the  same 
strong  self-hood,  which  led  him  to  measure  strength  with  Mr.  Co- 
vey, and  to  wrench  himself  from  the  embrace  of  the  Garrisonians, 
and  which  has  borne  him  through  many  resistances  to  the  personal 
indignities  offered  him  as  a  colored  man,  sometimes  becomes  a 
hyper-sensitiveness  to  such  assaults  as  men  of  his  mark  will  meet 
with,  on  paper.  Keen  and  unscrupulous  opponents  have  sought, 
and  not  unsuccessful!}',  to  pierce  him  in  this  direction  ;  for  well 
they  know,  that  if  assailed,  he  will  smite  back. 

It  is  not  without  a  feeling  of  pride,  dear  reader,  that  I  present 
you  with  this  book.  The  son  of  a_self-emancipated  bond-woman,  I 
feel  joy  in  introducing  to  you  my  brother,  wlio  has  rent  his  own 
bonds,  and  who,  in  his  every  relation — as  a  public  man,  as  a  husband 
and  as  a  father — is  such  as  does  honor  to  the  land  which  gave  him 
birth.  I  shall  place  this  book  in  the  hands  of  the  only  child  spared 
me,  bidding  him  to  strive  and  emulate  its  noble  example.  You 
may  do  likewise.  It  is  an  American  book,  for  Americans,  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  idea.  It  shows  that  the  worst  of  our  institutions, 
in  its  worst  aspect,  cannot  keep  down  energ}-,  truthfulness,  and 
earnest  struggle  for  the  riglit.  It  proves  the  justice  and  practica- 
bility of  Immediate  Emancipation.  It  shows  that  any  map  in  our 
land,  "  no  matter  in  what  battle  his  liberty  may  have  been  cloven 
d'^wn,  *  *  *  *  no  matter  Avliat  complexion  an  Indian  or  art 
African  sun  may  have  burned  upon  him,"  not  only  may  "  stand 
forth  redeemed  and  disenthralled,"  l»ut  may  also  stand  up  a  candi- 
date for  the  highest  suffrage  of  a  great  people — the  tribute  of  their 
honest,  hearty  admiration.         Reader,    Vale ! 

New  York.  James  M'Cune  Smith. 


<i«tfi 


LIFE  AS  A  SLAYE. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE  AUTHOR'S  CHILDHOOD. 

PLACE  OF  BIRTH CHARACTER  OF  THE  DISTRICT TUCKAHOE ORIGIN  OF  THE 

NAME CHOPTANK  RIVER TIME  OF  EIRTH GENEALOGICAL  TREES MODE 

OF  COUNTING  TIME NAMES  OF  GRANDPARENTS THEIR  POSITION GRAND- 
MOTHER ESPECIALLY  ESTEEMED "bORN  TO  GOOD  LUCk" SWEET  POTA- 
TOES  SLTERSTITION THE  LOG  CABIN ITS  CHARMS SEPARATING  CHIL- 
DREN  author's  AUNTS THEIR   NAMES FIRST   KNOWLEDGE  OF  BEING    A 

SLAVE "  OLD  MASTER  " GRIEFS    AND    JOYS    OF  CHILDHOOD C03IPARA- 

TIVE  HAPPINESS  OF  THE  SLAVE-BOY  AND  THE  SON  OF  A  SLAVEHOLDER. 

In  Talbot  county,  Eastern  Shore,  Maryland,  near 
Easton,  tlie  county  town  of  that  county,  there  is  a 
small  district  of  country,  thinly  populated,  and  re- 
markable for  nothing  that  I  know  of  more  than  for 
the  worn-out,  sandy,  desert-like  appearance  of  its  soil, 
the  general  dilapidation  of  its  farms  and  fences, 
the  indigent  and  spiritless  character  of  its  inhabitants, 
and  the  prevalence  of  ague  and  fever. 

The  name  of  this  singularly  unpromising  and  truly 
famine  stricken  district  is  Tuckahoe,  a  name  well 
known  to  all  Marylanders,  black  and  white.  It  was 
given  to  this  section  of  country  probably,  at  the  first, 
merely  in  derision  ;  or  it  may  possibly  have  been 
B*  8 


34  LIFi^:  AS  A  SLAVE. 

applied  to  it,  as  I  have  heard,  hecause  some  one  of  its 
earlier  iiiJiabitants  had  been  guilty  of  the  petty  mean- 
ness of  stealing  a  hoe — or  taking  a  hoe — that  did  not 
belong  to  him.  Eastern  Shore  men  nsnally  pronounce 
the  word  took^  as  tudd  /  Took-a-lwe^  therefore,  is,  in 
Maryland  parlance,  Tucmhae.  But,  whatever  may 
have  been  its  orio-in  —  and  about  this  I  will  not  be 
positive — that  name  has  stuck  to  the  district  in  ques- 
tion ;  and  it  is  seldom  mentioned  but  with  contempt 
and  derision,  on  account  of  the  barrenness  of  its  soily 
and  the  ignorance,  indolence,  and  poverty  of  its  peo- 
ple. Decay  and  ruin  are  everywhere  visible,  and  the 
thin  population  of  the  place  would  have  quitted  it 
long  ago,  but  for  the  Choptank  river,  which  runs 
through  it,  from  which  they  take  abundance  of  shad 
and  herring,  and  plenty  of  ague  and  fever. 

It  was  in  this  dull,  flat,  and  nnthrifty  district^  or 
neighborhood,  surrounded  by  a  white  population  of 
the  lowest  order,  indolent  and  drunken  to  a  proverb, 
and  among  slaves,  who  seemed  to  ask,  "  Oh!  whafs 
the  useV  every  time  they  lifted  a  hoe,  that  I — with- 
out any  fault  of  mine — was  born,  and  spent  the  first 
years  of  my  childhood. 

The  reader  wdll  pardon  so  much  about  the  place  of 
my  birth,  on  th^  score  that  it  is  always  a  fact  of  some 
importance  to  know  where  a  man  is  born,  if,  indeed, 
it  be  important  to  know  anything  about  him.  In  re- 
gard to  the  tinie  of  my  birth,  I  cannot  be  as  definite 
as  I  have  been  respecting  the  place.  Nor,  indeed, 
can  I  impart  much  knowledge  concerning  my  pai<-:iit3. 
Genealogical  trees  do  not  flourish  among  slaves.  A 
person  of  some  consequence  here  in  the  north,  sojuo- 


TIME  OF  BIETlt.  35 

times  designated  father^  is  literally  abolished  iu  slave 
law  and  slave  practice.  It  is  only  once  in  a  while 
that  an  exception  is  found  to  this  statement.  I  never 
met  with  a  slave  who  could  tell  me  how  old  he  was. 
Few  slave-m.others  know  anything  of  the  months  of 
the  year,  nor  of  the  days  of  the  month.  They  keep 
no  family  records,  with  marriages,  births,  and  deaths. 
They  measure  the  ages  of  their  children  by  spring 
time,  winter  time,  harvest  time,  planting  time,  and 
the  like ;  but  these  soon  become  undistinguishable 
and  forgotten.  Like  other  slaves,  I  cannot  tell  how 
old  I  am.  This  destitution  was  among  my  earliest 
troubles.  I  learned  when  I  grew  up,  that  my  mas- 
ter— and  this  is  the  case  Avith  masters  generally — al-j 
lowed  no  questions  to  be  put  to  him,  by  which  a 
slave  might  learn  his  age.  Such  questions  arc  deem- 
ed evidence  of  impatience,  and  even  of  imj^udent  cu- 
riosity. From  certain  events,  however,  the  dates  of 
which  I  have  since  learned,  I  suppose  myself  to  have 
been  born  about  the  year  1817. 

The  first  experience  of  life  with  nie  that  I  now  re- 
member— and  I  remember  it  but  hazily — began  in 
the  family  of  my  grandmother  and  grandfather,  Bet- 
Fey  and  Isaac  Baily.  They  were  quite  advanced  in 
life,  and  had  long  lived  on  the  spot  where  they  then 
resided.  They  were  considered  old  settlers  in  the 
neighborhood,  and,  from  certain  circumstances,  I  in- 
fer that  my  grandmother,  especially,  was  held  in  high 
esteem,  far  higher  than  is  the  lot  of  most  colored  per- 
sons in  the  slave  states.  She  was  a  good  nurse,  and 
a  capital  hand  at  making  nets  for  catching  shad  and 
herring ;  and  these  nets  were  in  gi-eat  den:sand,  not 


36  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

only  in  Tuckalioe,  but  at  Denton  and  Hlllsboro, 
neighboring  villages.  She  was  not  only  good  at  ma- 
king the  nets,  but  was  also  somewhat  famous  for  her 
good  fortune  in  taking  the  fishes  referred  to.  I  have 
known  her  to  be  in  the  water  half  the  dav.  Grand- 
mother  was  likevv'ise  more  provident  than  most  of  her 
neighbors  in  the  preservation  of  seedling  sweet  pota- 
toes, and  it  happened  to  her — as  it  will  happen  to 
any  careful  and  thrifty  person  residing  in  an  ignorant 
and  improvident  community — to  enjoy  the  reputation 
of  having  been  born  to  "  good  luck."  Her  "  good 
luck "  was  owing  to  the  exceeding  care  which  she 
took  in  preventing  the  succulent  root  from  getting 
bruised  in  the  digging,  and  in  placing  it  beyond  the 
reach  of  frost,  by  actually  burying  it  under  the  hearth 
of  her  cabin  during  the  winter  months.  In  the  time 
of  planting  sweet  potatoes,  ''  Grandmother  Betty," 
as  she  was  familiarly  called,  was  sent  for  in  all  direc- 
tions, simply  to  place  the  seedling  potatoes  in  the 
hills  ;  for  superstition  had  it,  that  if  "  Grandmamma 
Betty  but  touches  them  at  planting,  they  will  be  sure 
to  grow  and  flourish."  Tliis  high  reputation  was  full 
of  advantage  to  her,  and  to  the  children  around  her. 
Though  Tiickahoe  had  but  few  of  the  good  things  of 
life,  yet  of  such  as  it  did  possess  grandmother  got  a 
full  share,  in  the  way  of  presents.  If  good  potato 
crops  came  after  her  planting,  she  was  not  forgotten  by 
those  for  whom  she  planted  ;  and  as  she  was  remem- 
bered by  others,  so  she  remembered  the  hungrj^  little 
ones  around  her. 

The  dwelling  of  my  grandmother  and  grandfather 
had  few  pretensions.     It  was  a  log  hut,  or  cabin, 


THE  LOG  CABIN.  37 

built  of  clav,  wood,  and  straw.  At  a  distance  it  re- 
sembled— though  it  was  much  smaller,  less  commodi- 
ous and  less  substantial — the  cabins  erected  in  the 
western  states  by  the  first  settlers.  To  my  child's 
eye,  however,  it  was  a  noble  structure,  admirably 
adapted  to  promote  the  comforts  and  conveniences 
of  its  inmjies.  A  few  rough,  Virginia  fence-rails, 
flung  loosely  over  the  rafters  above,  answered  the 
triple  purpose  of  floors,  ceilings,  and  bedsteads.  To 
be  sure,  this  upper  apartment  was  reached  only  by  a 
ladder — but  what  in  the  world  for  climbing  could  be 
better  than  a  ladder  ?  To  me,  this  ladder  was  really 
a  high  invention,  and  possessed  a  sort  of  charm  as  I 
played  with  delight  upon  the  rounds  of  it.  In  this 
little  hut  there  was  a  large  family  of  children :  I  dare 
not  say  how  many.  My  grandmother — whether  be- 
cause too  old  for  field  service,  or  because  she  had  so 
faithfully  discharged  the  duties  of  her  station  in  early 
life,  I  knovv'  not — enjoyed  the  high  privilege  of  living 
in  a  cabin,  separate  from  the  quarter,  with  no  other 
burden  than  her  own  support,  and  the  necessary  care 
of  the  little  children,  imposed.  She  evidently  es- 
teemed it  a  great  fortune  to  live  so.  The  children 
were  not  her  own,  but  her  grandchildren — the  chil- 
dren of  her  daughters.  She  took  delight  in  having 
them  around  her,  and  in  attending  to  their  few  wants. 
The  practice  of  separating  children  from  their  moth- 
ers, and  hiring  the  latter  out  at  distances  too  great  to 
admit  of  their  meeting,  except  at  long  intervals,  is  a 
marked  feature  of  the  cruelty  and  barbarity  of  the 
slave  system.  But  it  is  in  harmony  with  the  grand 
aim  of  slavery,  which,  always  and  everywhere,  is  to 


"1 


38  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

r  reduce  man  to  a  level  with  the  brute.  It  is  a  suc- 
cessful method  of  obliterating  from  the  mind  and 
heart  of  tlie  slave,  all  just  ideas  of  the  sacredness  of 
the  family^  as  an  institution. 

Most  of  the  children,  however,  in  this  instance,  be- 
ing the  children  of  mj  grandmother's  daughters,  the 
notions  of  family,  and  the  reciprocal  duties  and  bene- 
fits of  the  relation,  had  a  better  chance  of  being  un- 
derstood than  where  children  are  placed — as  they 
often  are — in  the  hands  of  strangers,  who  have  no 
care  for  them,  apart  from  the  wishes  of  their  masters. 
The  daughters  of  my  grandmother  were  five  in  num- 
ber. Their  names  were  Jenny,  Esther,  Millt,  Pkis- 
ciLLA,  and  Hakkiet.  The  daughter  last  named  was 
my  mother,  of  whom  the  reader  shall  learn  more  by- 
and-by. 

Living  here,  with  my  dear  old  grandmother  and 
grandfather,  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  knew  myself 
,to  be  a  slave.  I  knew  many  other  things  before  I 
knew  that.  Grandmother  and  grandfather  were  the 
greatest  people  in  the  world  to  me  ;  and  being  with 
them  so  snugly  in  their  own  little  cabin — I  supposed 
,  it  be  their  own — knowing  no  higher  authority  over 
me  or  the  other  children  than  the  authority  of  grand- 
mamma, for  a  time  there  was  nothing  to  disturb  me  ; 
but,  as  I  grew  larger  and  older,  I  learned  by  degrees 
the  sad  fact,  that  the  "little  hut,"  and  the  lot  on 
which  it  stood,  belonged  not  to  my  dear  old  grand- 
parents, but  to  some  person  who  lived  a  great  dis- 
tance ofi",  and  who  was  called,  by  grandmother,  "  Old 
Master."  I  farther  learned  the  sadder  fact,  that  not 
only  the  house  and  lot,  but  that  grandmother  herself, 


«<  /^r-r.   iirAcn.T-T>  " 


OLD  MASTER.  39 

(grandfather  was  free,)  and  all  the  little  children 
around  her,  belonged  to  this  mysterious  personage, 
called  by  grandmother,  with  every  mark  of  reverence, 
''  Old  Master."  Thus  early  did  clouds  and  shadows 
begin  to  fall  upon  my  path.  Once  on  the  track — ■ 
troubles  never  coine  singly — I  was  not  long  in  find- 
ing out  another  fact,  still  more  grievous  to  my  child- 
ish heart.  I  was  told  that  this  "  old  master,"  whose 
name  seemed  ever  to  be  mentioned  with  fear  and  shud- 
dering, only  allowed  the  children  to  live  with  grand- 
mother for  a  limited  time,  and  that  in  fact  as  soon 
as  they  were  big  enough,  they  were  promptly  taken 
away,  to  live  with  the  said  "  old  master."  These 
were  distressing  revelations  indeed  ;  and  though  I 
was  quite  too  young  to  comprehend  the  full  import 
of  the  intelligence,  and  mostly  spent  my  childhood 
days  in  gleesome  sports  vv^ith  the  other  children,  a 
shade  of  disquiet  rested  upon  me. 

The  absolute  power  of  this  distant  "old  master" 
had  touched  my  young  spirit  with  but  the  point  of 
its  cold,  cruel  iron,  and  left  me  something  to  brood 
over  after  the  play  and  in  moments  of  repose.  Grand- 
mammy  was,  indeed,  at  that  time,  all  the  world  to 
me  ;  and  the  thought  of  being  separated  from  her,  in 
any  considerable  time,  was  more  than  an  unwelcome 
intruder.     It  was  intolerable. 

Children  have  their  sorrows  as  well  as  men  and 
women  ;  and  it  would  be  well  to  remember  this  in 
our  dealings  with  them.  SLAVE-children  are  children, 
and  ]3rove  no  exceptions  to  the  general  rule.  The  li- 
ability to  be  separated  from  my  grandmother,  seldom 
or  never  to  see  her  again,  haunted  me.     I  dreaded 


40  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

the  tlioiiglit  of  going  to  live  with  that  mysterious 
"  old  master,"  whose  name  I  never  heard  mentioned 
with  affection,  but  always  with  fear.  I  look  back  to 
this  as  among  the  heaviest  of  my  childhood's  sorrows. 
My  grandmother  !  my  grandmother !  and  the  little 
hut,  and  the  joyous  circle  under  her  care,  but  espe- 
cially she^  who  made  us  sorry  when  she  left  us  but 
for  an  hour,  and  glad  on  her  return, — how  could  1 
leave  her  and  the  good  old  home  ? 

But  the  sorrows  of  childhood,  like  the  pleasures  of 
after  life,  are  transient.  It  is  not  even  within  the 
power  of  slavery  to  write  indelible  sorrow,  at  a  single 
dash,  over  the  heart  of  a  child. 

"  The  tear  down  childhood's  cheek  that  flows, 
Is  like  the  dew-drop  on  the  rose, — 
"When  next  the  summer  breeze  comes  by, 
And  waves  the  bush, — the  flower  is  dry." 

There  is,  after  all,  but  little  difference  in  the  meas- 
m'e  of  contentment  felt  by  the  slave-child  neglected 
and  the  slaveholder's  child  cared  for  and  petted.  The 
spirit  of  the  All  Just  mercifully  holds  the  balance 
for  the  young. 

The  slaveholder,  havins;  nothine^  to  fear  from  im- 
potent  childhood,  easily  affords  to  refrain  from  cruel 
inflictions  ;  and  if  cold  and  hunger  do  not  pierce  the 
tender  frame,  the  first  seven  or  eight  years  of  the 
slave -boy's  life  are  about  as  full  of  sweet  content  as 
those  of  the  most  favored  and  petted  %Dhite  children 
of  the  slaveholder.  The  slave-boy  escapes  many 
troubles  which  befall  and  vex  his  white  brother.  He 
seldom  has  to  listen  to  lectures  on  propriety  of  be- 


COMPAIiATIVE  HArPLNESS.  41 

liavior,  or  on  anything  else.  He  is  never  cliided  for 
handling  his  little  knife  and  fork  improperly  or  awk- 
wardly, for  he  uses  none.  He  is  never  reprimanded 
for  soilino:  the  table-cloth,  for  he  takes  his  meals  on 
the  clay  floor.  He  never  has  the  misfortune,  in  his 
games  or  sports,  of  soiling  or  tearing  his  clothes,  for 
he  has  almost  none  to  soil  or  tear.  He  is  never  ex- 
pected to  act  like  a  nice  little  gentleman,  for  he  is 
only  a  rude  little  slave.  Thus,  freed  from  all  re- 
straint, the  slave-boy  can  be,  in  his  life  and  conduct, 
a  genuine  boy,  doing  whatever  his  boyish  nature  sug- 
gests ;  enacting,  by  turns,  all  the  strange  antics  and 
freaks  of  horses,  d  ogs,  pigs,  and  barn-door  fowds,  with- 
out in  any  manner  compromising  his  dignity,  or  in- 
curring reproach  of  any  sort.  He  literally  runs  wild ; 
has  no  pretty  little  verses  to  learn  in  the  nursery  ; 
no  nice  little  speeches  to  make  for  aunts,  uncles,  or 
cousins,  to  show  how  smart  he  is  ;  and,  if  he  can  only 
manage  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  heavy  feet  and 
fists  of  the  older  slave  boys,  he  may  trot  on,  in  his 
joyous  and  roguish  tricks,  as  happy  as  any  little 
heathen  under  the  palm  trees  of  Africa.  To  be  sure, 
he  is  occasionally  reminded,  when  he  stumbles  in  the 
path  of  his  master— and  this  he  early  learns  to  avoid 
—  that  he  is  eating  his  "  white  Ijread^^  and  that  he 
will  be  made  to  "  see  sights  "  by-and-by.  The  threat 
is  soon  forgotten  ;  the  shadow  soon  2)asses,  and  our 
sable  boy  continues  to  roll  in  the  dust,  or  play  in  the 
mud,  as  bests  suits  him,  and  in  the  veriest  freedom. 
If  he  feels  uncomfortable,  from  mud  or  from  dust,  the 
coast  is  clear  ;  he  can  plunge  into  the  river  or  the 
pond,  without  the  ceremony  of  undressing,  or  the  fear 


42  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

of  wetting  liis  clotlies  ;  liis  little  to^Y-linen  sliirt — for 
that  is  all  lie  has  on — is  easily  dried  ;  and  it  needed 
ablntion  as  much  as  did  his  skin.  His  food  is  of  the 
coarsest  kind,  consisting  for  the  most  part  of  corn- 
meal  mush,  wliicli  often  finds  it  way  from  the  wooden 
tray  to  his  mouth  in  an  oyster  shell.  His  days,  when 
the  weather  is  warm,  are  spent  in  the  pure,  open  air, 
and  in  the  bright  sunshine.  He  always  sleeps  in  airy 
apartments  ;  he  seldom  has  to  take  powders,  or  to  be 
paid  to  swallow  pretty  little  sugar-coated  pills,  to 
cleanse  his  blood,  or  to  quicken  his  appetite.  He 
eats  no  candies  ;  gets  no  lumps  of  loaf  sugar  ;  always 
relishes  his  food  ;  cries  but  little,  for  nobody  cares  for 
his  crying  ;  learns  to  esteem  his  bruises  but  slight, 
because  others  so  esteem  them.  In  a  word,  he  is,  for 
the  most  part  of  the  first  eight  years  of  his  life,  a  spir- 
ited, joyous,  uproarious,  and  happy  boy,  upon  whom 
troubles  fall  only  like  water  on  a  duck's  back.  And 
euch  a  boy,  so  far  as  I  can  now  remember,  was  the 
boy  whose  life  in  slavery  I  am  now  narrating. 


CHAPTER  11. 

THE  AUTHOR  REMOVED  FROM  HIS  FIRST  HOME. 

THE  NAME  "old  MASTER "  A  TERROR COLONEL  LLOYD's  PLANTATION WTE 

RIVER WHENCE  ITS  NAME POSITION  OF  THE  LLOYDS HOME  ATTRACTION 

MEET  OFFERING JOURNEY  FROM  TUCKAHOE  TO  WYE  RIVER SCENE  ON 

REACHING  OLD  MASTEr's DEPARTURE  OF  GRANDMOTHER STRANGE  MEET- 
ING   OF   SISTERS    AND    BROTHERS REFUSAL  TO    BE  COMFORTED SWEET 

SLEEP. 

That  mysterious  individual  referred  to  in  the  first 
chapter  as  an  object  of  terror  among  the  inhabitants 
of  our  little  cabin,  under  the  ominous  title  of  "  old 
master,"  was  really  a  man  of  some  consequence.  He 
owned  several  farms  in  Tuckahoe  ;  w^as  the  chief 
clerk  and  butler  on  the  home  plantation  of  Col.  Ed- 
ward Lloyd  ;  had  overseers  on  his  own  farms ;  and 
gave  directions  to  overseers  on  the  farms  belonging 
to  Col.  Lloyd.  This  plantation  is  situated  on  Wye 
river — the  river  receiving  its  name,  doubtless,  from 
Wales,  where  the  Lloyds  originated.  They  (the 
Lloyds)  are  an  old  and  honored  family  in  Maryland, 
exceedingly  wealthy.  The  home  plantation,  where 
they  have  resided,  perhaps  for  a  century  or  more,  is 
one  of  the  largest,  most  fertile,  and  best  appointed,  in 
the  state. 

About  this  plantation,  and  about  that  qneer  old 
master — who  must  be  something  more  than  a  man, 


44:  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

and  something  worse  than  an  angel — tlie  reader  will 
easily  imagine  that  I  was  not  only  cnrions,  but  eager, 
to  know  all  that  could  be  known.  Unhappily  for 
me,  however,  all  the  information  I  could  get  concern- 
ing him  but  increased  my  great  dread  of  being  car- 
ried thither — of  being  separated  from  and  deprived 
of  the  protection  of  my  grandmother  and  grandfather. 
It  was,  evidently,  a  great  thing  to  go  to  Col.  Lloyd's ; 
and  I  was  not  without  a  little  curiosity  to  see  the 
place  ;  but  no  amount  of  coaxing  could  induce  in  me 
the  wish  to  remain  there.  The  fact  is,  such  was  my 
dread  of  leaving  the  little  cabin,  that  I  vrished  to 
remain  little  forever,  for  I  knew  the  taller  I  grew  the 
shorter  my  stay.  The  old  cabin,  with  its  rail  floor 
and  rail  bedsteads  up  stairs,  and  its  clay  floor  down 
stairs,  and  its  dirt  chimney,  and  windowless  sides, 
and  that  most  curious  piece  of  workmanship  of  all  the 
rest,  the  ladder  stairway,  and  the  hole  curiously  dug 
in  front  of  the  fire-place,  beneath  which  grandmammy 
placed  the  sweet  potatoes  to  keep  them  from  the  frost, 
was  MY  HOME —  the  only  home  I  ever  had ;  and  I  loved 
it,  and  all  connected  with  it.  The  old  fences  around 
it,  and  the  stumps  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  near  it, 
and  the  squirrels  that  ran,  skipped,  and  pla^^ed  uj)on 
them,  were  objects  of  interest  and  affection.  There, 
too,  right  at  the  side  of  the  hut,  stood  the  old  well, 
with  its  stately  and  skyward-pointing  beam,  so  aptly 
placed  between  the  limbs  of  what  had  once  been  a 
tree,  and  so  nicely  balanced  that  I  could  move  it  up 
and  down  with  only  one  liand,  and  could  get  a  drink 
myself  without  calling  for  help.  AYhere  else  in  the 
world  could  such  a  well  be  found,  and  where  could 


HOME  ArrRACTION.  45 

sticli  anotlier  home  be  met  with  ?  ISTor  were  these  all 
the  attractions  of  the  place.  Down  in  a  little  valley, 
not  far  from  grandmammy's  cabin 5  stood  ]\Ir.  Lee's 
mill,  where  the  people  came  often  in  large  nnmbers 
to  get  their  corn  gronnd.  It  was  a  water-mill ;  and 
I  never  shall  be  able  to  tell  the  many  things  thonght 
and  felt,  while  I  sat  on  the  bank  and  watched  that 
mill,  and  the  tnrning  of  that  ponderons  wheel.  The 
mill-pond,  too,  had  its  charms;  and  with  my  pin- 
hook,  and  tliread  line,  I  could  get  nibbles^  if  I  could 
catch  no  fish.  But,  in  all  my  sports  and  plays,  and 
in  spite  of  them,  there  would,  occasionally,  come  the 
painful  foreboding  that  I  was  net  long  to  remain 
there,  and  that  I  must  soon  be  called  away  to  the 
home  of  old  master. 

I  vv'as  A  SLAVE — born  a  slave — and  though  the  fact 
was  incomprehensible  to  me,  it  conveyed  to  my  mind",- 
a  sense  of  my  entire  dependence  on  the  will  of  some-^ 
hocly  I  had  never  seen  ;   and,  from   some   cause  or  '' 
other,  I  had  been  made  to  fear  this  somebody  above 
all  else  on  earth.     Born  for  another's  benefit,  as  the ') 
firstling  of  the  cabin  flock  I  was  soon  to  be  selectedj*) 
as  a  meet  offering  to  the  fearful  and  inexorable  demi- 
god^ Vvdiose  huge  image  on  so  many  occasions  haunted 
my  childhood's  imagination.     When  the  time  of  my 
departure  was  decided  upon,  my  grandmother,  know- 
ing my  fears,  and  in  pity  for  them,  kindly  kept  me  ig- 
norant of  the  dreaded  event  about  to  transpire.     Up  to 
the  morning  (a  beautiful  summer  morning)  when  we 
were  to  start,  and,  indeed,  during  the  whole  journey 
• — a  journey  which,  child  as  I  was,  I  remember  as 
well  as  if  it  were  yesterday — she  kept  the  sad  fact 


46  LIFE  AS  A  SLATE. 

hidden  from  me.  This  reserve  was  necessarj ;  for, 
could  I  have  known  all,  I  should  have  given  grand- 
mother some  trouble  in  getting  me  started.  As  it 
was,  I  was  helpless,  and  she— dear  woman  ! — 'led  me 
along  by  the  hand,  resisting,  v^^ith  tlie  reserve  and  so* 
lemnity  of  a  priestess,  all  my  inquiring  looks  to  the 
last. 

The  distance  from  Tuckahoe  to  "Wye  river — where 
mv  old  master  lived — was  full  twelve  miles,  and  the 
walk  was  quite  a  severe  test  of  the  endurance  of  my 
young  legs.  The  journey  would  have  proved  too  se- 
vere for  me,  but  that  my  dear  old  grandmother — - 
blessings  on  her  memory  ! — afforded  occassional  relief 
by  "  toting "  me  (as  Marylanders  have  it)  on  her 
shoulder.  My  grandmother,  though  advanced  in 
years — -as  was  evident  from  more  than  one  gray  hair, 
which  peeped  from  between  the  ample  and  graceful 
folds  of  her  newly-ironed  bandana  turban — was  yet 
a  woman  of  power  and  spirit.  She  was  marvelously 
straight  in  figure,  elastic,  and  muscular.  I  seemed 
hardly  to  be  a  burden  to  her.  She  would  have 
*'  toted  "  me  farther,  but  that  I  felt  myself  too  much 
of  a  man  to  allow  it,  and  insisted  on  walking.  Re- 
leasing dear  grandmamma  from  carrying  me,  did  not 
make  me  altogther  indej)endent  of  her,  when  we  hap- 
pened to  pass  through  portions  of  the  somber  woods 
which  lay  between  Tuckahoe  and  Wye  river.  She 
often  found  me  increasing  the  energy  of  my  grip,  and 
liolding  her  clothing,  lest  something  should  come  out 
of  the  woods  and  eat  me  up.  Several  old  logs  and 
stumps  imposed  upon  me,  and  got  themselves  taken 
tor  wild  beasts.     I  could  see  their  legs,  eyes,  and  ears, 


JOUKNEY  FEOM  TUCKAHOE  TO  WYE  EIVER.  47 

01  I  could  see  something  like  eyes,  legs,  and  ears,  till 
I  got  close  enoiigh  to  them  to  see  that  the  eyes  were 
knots,  washed  white  with  rain,  and  the  legs  were 
broken  limbs,  and  the  ears,  only  ears  owing  to  the 
point  from  which  tliey  were  seen.  Thus  early  I 
learned  that  the  point  from  y/hich  a  thing  is  viewed 
is  of  some  importance. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  heat  increased  ;  and  it 
was  not  until  the  afternoon  that  we  reached  the  much 
dreaded  end  of  the  journey.  I  found  myself  in  the 
midst  of  a  group  of  children  of  many  colors  ;  black, 
brown,  capper  colored,  and  nearly  white.  I  had  not 
seen  so  many  children  before.  Great  houses  loomed 
up  in  different  directions,  and  a  great  many  men  and 
women  were  at  work  in  the  fields.  All  this  hurry, 
noise,  and  singing  was  very  different  from  the  still- 
ness of  Tuckahoe.  As  a  new  comer,  I  was  an  object 
of  special  interest ;  and,  after  laughing  and  yelling 
around  me,  and  playing  all  sorts  of  wild  tricks,  they 
(the  children)  asked  me  to  go  out  and  play  with  them. 
This  I  refused  to  do,  jDreferring  to  stay  with  grand- 
mamma. I  could  not  help  feeling  that  our  being 
there  boded  no  good  to  me.  Grandmamma  looked 
sad.  She  was  soon  to  lose  another  object  of  affection, 
as  she  had  lost  many  before.  I  knew  she  Avas  un- 
happy, and  the  shadow  fell  from  her  brow  on  me, 
though  I  knew  not  the  cause. 

All  suspense,  however,  must  iiave  an  end  ;  and  the 
end  of  mine,  in  this  instance,  v\^as  at  hand.     Affec- 
tionately patting  me  on  the  head,  and  exliorting  me 
to  be  a  good  boy,  grandmamma  told  me  to  go  and 
^play  with  the  little  children.     "  They  are  kin  to  you," 


1 


4:8  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

said  slie  ;  "  go  and  play  witli  them."     Among  a  nnm 
ber  of  cousins  were  Phil,  Tom,  Steve,  and  Jeny, 
Nance  and  Betty. 

Grandmother  pointed  out  my  brother  Pekrt,  my 
sister  Sakah,  and  my  sister  Eliza,  who  stood  in  the 
group.  I  had  never  seen  my  brother  nor  my  sisters 
before  ;  and,  thongh  I  had  sometimes  heard  of  them, 
and  felt  a  curious  interest  in  them,  I  really  did  not 
understand  what  they  were  to  me,  or  I  to  them.  We 
were  brothers  and  sisters,  but  what  of  that  ?  Why 
/^should  they  be  attached  to  me,  or  I  to  them  ?  Broth- 
f  ers  and  sisters  we  were  by  blood  ;  but  slavery  had 
made  us  strans^ers.  I  heard  the  words  brother  and 
sisters,  and  knew  they  must  mean  something ;  but 
slavery  had  robbed  these  terms  of  their  true  meaning. 
The  experience  through  which  I  was  passing,  they 
had  passed  through  before.  They  had  already  been 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  old  master's  domicile, 
and  they  seemed  to  look  upon  me  with  a  certain  de- 
gree of  compassion  ;  but  my  heart  clave  to  my  grand- 
mother. Think  it  not  strange,  dear  reader,  that  so 
little  sympathy  of  feeling  existed  between  us.  The 
conditions  of  brotherly  and  sisterly  feeling  were 
wanting — we  had  never  nestled  and  played  together. 
My  poor  mother,  like  many  other  slave-women,  had 
many  childreii^  but  no  family  !  The  domestic  hearth, 
with  its  holy  lessons  and  precious  endearments,  is  abol- 
ished in  the  case  of  a  slave-mother  and  her  children. 
"  Little  children,  love  one  another,"  are  words  seldom 
heard  in  a  slave  cabin. 

I  really  wanted  to  play  with  my  brother  and  sis- 
ters, but  they  were  strangers  to  me,  and  I  was  full  of 


DEPAPwTUKE  OF  GKANDMOTHER.  49 

fear  that  graudmotlier  miglit  leave  without  taking  me 
with  her.  Entreated  to  do  so,  however,  and  that,  too, 
by  my  dear  grandmother,  I  went  to  the  back  part 
of  the  honse,  to  phiy  with  them  and  the  other  chil- 
dren. Play^  however,  I  did  not,  but  stood  with  my 
back  against  the  wall,  witnessing  the  playing  of  the 
others.  At  last,  v/hile  standing  there,  one  of  the  chil- 
dren, who  had  been  in  the  kitchen,  ran  up  to  me,  in 
a  sort  of  roguish  glee,  exclaiming,  ^'  Fed,  Fed !  grand- 
mammy  gone  !  grandmammy  gone  !  "  I  could  not 
believe  it ;  yet,  fearing  the  worst,  I  ran  into  the 
kitchen,  to  see  for  myself,  and  found  it  even  so. 
Grandmammy  had  indeed  gone,  and  w^as  now  far 
away,  "  clean  "  out  of  sight.  I  need  not  tell  all  that 
happened  now.  Almost  heart-broken  at  the  discov- 
ery, I  fell  upon  the  ground,  and  wept  a  boy's  bitter 
tears,  refusing  to  be  comforted.  My  brother  and  sis- 
ters came  around  me,  and  said,  "Don't  cry,"  and 
gave  me  peaches  and  pears,  but  I  flung  them  away, 
and  refused  all  their  ^kindly  advances.  I  had  never 
been  deceived  before  ;  and  I  felt  not  only  grieved  at 
parting  —  as  I  supposed  forever  —  with  my  grand- 
mother, but  indignant  that  a  trick  had  been  played 
upon  me  in  a  matter  so  serious. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  day  had 
been  an  exciting  and  wearisome  one,  and  I  knew  not 
how  or  where,  but  I  suppose  I  sobbed  myself  to  sleep. 
There  is  a  healing  in  the  angel  wing  of  sleep,  even 
for  the  slave-boy  ;  and  its  balm  was  never  more  wel- 
come to  any  wounded  soul  than  it  was  to  mine,  the 
first  night  I  spent  at  the  domicile  of  old  master.  The 
reader  may  be  surprised  that  I  narrate  so  minutely 
C  4 


BO  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

an  incident  apparently  so  trivial,  and  which  must 
have  occurred  when  I  was  not  more  than  seven  years 
old  ;  but  as  I  wish  to  give  a  faithful  history  of  my 
experience  in  slavery,  I  cannot  withhold  a  circum- 
stance which,  at  the  time,  affected  me  so  deeply. 
Besides,  this  was,  in  fact,  my  first  introduction  to  the 
realities  of  slavery. 


w 


CHAPTER  TIL 

THE  AUTHOR'S  PAREXTAGE. 

author's  father  SHROTTDED  in  MTSTERT author's  mother HER  PER- 
SONAL APPEARANCE INTERFERENCE  OF  SLAVERY  WITH  THE  NATURAL  AF- 
FECTIONS OF  MOTHER  AND  CHILDREN SITUATION    OF  AUTHOr's  MOTHER— 

HER  NIGHTLY  VISITS  TO  HER  BOY STRIKING  INCIDENT HER  DEATH HER 

PLACE  OF    BURIAL. 

If  the  reader  will  now  be  kind  enongli  to  allow  me 
time  to  grow  bigger,  and  afford  me  an  opportunity 
for  my  experience  to  become  greater,  I  will  tell  him 
something,  by-and-by,  of  slave  life,  as  I  saw,  felt,  and 
heard  it,  on  Col.  Edward  Lloyd's  plantation,  and 
at  the  house  of  old  master,  where  I  had  now,  despite 
of  myself,  most  suddenly,  but  not  unexpectedly,  been 
dropped.  Meanwhile,  I  will  redeem  my  promise  to 
say  something  more  of  my  dear  mother. 

I  say  nothing  oi  father^  for  he  is  shrouded  in  a' 
mystery  I  have  never  been  able  to  penetrate.  Sla- 
very does  away  with  fathers,  as  it  does  away  with 
families.  Slavery  has  no  use  for  either  fathers  or 
families,  and  its  laws  do  not  recognize  their  existence  > 
in  the  social  arrangements  of  the  plantation.  When 
they  do  exist,  they  are  not  the  outgrowths  of  slavery, 
but  are  antagonistic  to  that  system.  The  order  of 
civilization  is  reversed  here.  The  name  of  the  child 
is  not  expected  to  be  that  of  its  father,  and  his  con» 


t 


62  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

dition  does  not  necessarily  affect  that  of  the  child. 
He  may  be  the  slave  of  Mr.  Tilgnum  ;  and  liis  child, 
when  born,  may  be  the  slave  of  Mr.  Gross.  He  may 
be  a  freeman  ;  and  yet  his  child  may  be  a  chattel. 
He  may  be  white,  glorying  in  the  pnrity  of  his  An- 
glo-Saxon blood  ;  and  his  child  may  be  ranked  with 
the  blackest  slaves.  Indeed,  he  may  be,  and  often 
Z5,  master  and  father  to  the  same  child.  He  can  be 
fatlier  without  being  a  husband,  and  may  sell  his 
cliild  without  incurring  reproach,  if  the  cliikl  be  by  a 
woman  in  whose  veins  courses  one  thirty-second  part 
of  African  blood.  My  father  was  a  white  man,  or 
nearly  white.  It  w^as  sometimes  whispered  that  my 
master  was  my  father. 

But  to  return,  or  rather,  to  begin.  My  knowledge  of 
my  mother  is  very  scanty,  but  very  distinct.  Her  per- 
sonal appearance  and  bearing  are  ineffaceably  stamped 
upon  my  memory.  She  was  tall,  and  finely  propor- 
tioned ;  of  deep  black,  glossy  complexion  ;  had  regu- 
lar features,  and,  among  the  other  slaves,  was  remark- 
ably sedate  in  her  manners.  There  is  in  '-'•  Pricharcrs 
Natural  History  of  Man^"^  the  head  of  a  figure — on 
page  157 — the  features  of  which  so  resemble  those  of 
my  mother,  that  I  often  recur  to  it  with  something  of 
the  feeling  which  I  suppose  others  experience  when 
looking  upon  the  pictures  of  dear  departed  ones.      ^ 

Yet  I  cannot  say  that  I  was  very  deeply  attached 
to  my  mother;  certainly  not  so  deeply  as  I  should 
have  been  had  our  relations  in  childhood  been  difter- 
ent.  We  w^ere  separated,  according  to  the  common 
custom,  when  I  was  but  an  infant,  and,  of  course,  be- 
foi'e  I  knew  my  mother  from  any  one  else. 


authok's  mother.  53 

The  germs  of  affection  with  which  the  AhTiighty, 
in  his  wisdom  and  mercy,  arms  the  helpless  infant 
against  the  ills  and  vicissitudes  of  his  lot,  had  been 
directed  in  their  ij-rowtli  toward  that  loviniy  old  g-rand- 
mother,  whose  gentle  hand  and  kind  deportment  it 
was  the  first  effort  of  my  infantile  understanding  to 
comprehend  and  appreciate.  Accordingly,  the  ten- 
derest  affection  which  a  beneficent  Father  allows,  as 
a  partial  compensation  to  the  mother  for  the  pains 
and  lacerations  of  her  heart,  incident  to  the  maternal 
relation,  was,  in  my  case,  diverted  from  its  true  and 
natural  object,  by  the  envious,  greedy,  and  treacher- 
ous hand  of  slavery.  The  slave-mother  can  be  spared 
long  enough  from  the  field  to  endure  all  the  bitter- 
ness of  a  mother's  anguish,  when  it  adds  another 
name  to  a  master's  ledger,  but  not  long  enough  to  re- 
ceive the  joyous  reward  afforded  by  the  intelligent 
smiles  of  her  child.  I  never  think  of  this  terrible  in- 
terference of  slavery  with  my  infantile  affections,  and 
its  diverting  them  from  their  natural  course,  without 
feelings  to  which  I  can  give  no  adequate  expression. 

I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  my  mother  at  my 
grandmother's  at  any  time.  I  remember  her  only  in 
her  visits  to  me  at  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  and  in  the 
kitchen  of  niy  old  master.  Her  visits  to  me  there 
were  few  in  number,  brief  in  duration,  and  mostly 
made  in  the  night.  The  pains  she  took,  and  the  toil 
she  endured,  to  see  me,  tells  me  that  a  true  mother's 
lieart  was  hers,  and  that  slavery  had  difficulty  in  par- 
alyzing it  with  unmotherly  indifference. 

My  mother  was  hired  out  to  a  Mr.  Stewart,  who 
lived  about  twelve  miles  from  old  master's,  and,  be- 


54  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

ing  a  field  hand,  she  seldom  had  leisure,  by  day,  foi 
the  performance  of  the  journey.  The  nights  and  the 
distance  were  both  obstacles  to  her  visits.  She  was 
obliged  to  walk,  unless  chance  flung  into  her  way  an 
opportunity  to  ride ;  and  the  latter  was  sometimes 
her  good  luck.  But  she  always  had  to  walk  one  way 
or  the  other.  It  was  a  greater  luxury  than  slavery 
could  aflTord,  to  allow  a  black  slave-mother  a  horse  or 
a  mule,  upon  which  to  travel  twenty-four  miles,  when 
she  could  walk  the  distance.  Besides,  it  is  deemed  a 
foolish  whim  for  a  slave-mother  to  manifest  concern 
to  see  her  children,  and,  in  one  point  of  view,  the  case 
is  made  out — she  can  do  nothing  for  them.  She  has 
no  control  over  them  ;  the  master  is  even  more  than 
the  mother,  in  all  matters  touching  the  fate  of  her 
child.  Why,  then,  should  she  give  herself  any  con- 
cern? She  has  no  responsibility.  Such  is  the  rea- 
soning, and  such  the  practice.  The  iron  rule  of  the 
plantation,  always  passionately  and  violently  enforced 
in  that  neighborhood,  makes  flogging  the  penalty  of 
failing  to  be  in  the  field  before  sunrise  in  the  morning, 
unless  special  permission  be  given  to  the  absenting 
slave.  "  I  went  to  see  my  child,"  is  no  excuse  to  the 
ear  or  heart  of  the  overseer. 

One  of  the  visits  of  my  mother  to  me,  while  at  Col. 
Lloyd's,  I  remember  very  vividly,  as  afibrding  a  bright 
gleam  of  a  mother's  love,  and  the  earnestness  of  a 
mother's  care. 

I  had  on  that  day  ofi-ended  "  Aunt  Katy,"  (called 
"  Aunt"  by  way  of  respect,)  the  cook  of  old  master's 
establishment.  I  do  not  now  remember  the  nature 
of  my  oflense  in  this  instance,  for  my  off'enses  were 


CKUELTT   OF  AUNT  KA.TY.  55 

numerous  in  that  quarter,  greatly  depending,  however, 
upon  the  mood  of  Aunt  Katy,  as  to  their  heinousness; 
but  she  had  adopted,  that  day,  her  favorite  mode  of 
punishing  me,  nam^ely,  making  me  go  without  food 
all  day — that  is,  from  after  breakfast.  The  first  hour 
or  two  after  dinner,  I  succeeded  pretty  well  in  keeping 
up  my  spirits ;  but  though  I  made  an  excellent  stand 
against  the  foe,  and  fought  bravely  during  the  after- 
noon, I  knew  I  must  be  conquered  at  last,  unless  I  got 
the  accustomed  reenforcement  of  a  slice  of  corn  bread, 
at  sundown.  Sundown  came,  but  7io  bread,  and,  in  its 
stead,  their  came  the  threat,  with  a  scowl  well  suited 
to  its  terrible  import,  that  she  "  meant  to  starve  the 
life  out  of  7ne  /"  Brandishing  her  knife,  she  chopped 
off  the  heavy  slices  for  the  other  children,  and  put  the 
loaf  away,  muttering,  all  the  while,  her  savage  designs 
upon  myself.  Against  this  disappointment,  for  I  was 
expecting  that  her  heart  would  relent  at  last,  I  made 
an  extra  effort  to  maintain  my  dignity  ;  but  when  I 
saw  all  the  other  children  around  me  with  merry  and 
satisfied  faces,  I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  I  went  out 
behind  the  house,  and  cried  like  a  fine  fellow  !  When 
tired  of  this,  I  returned  to  the  kitchen,  sat  by  the  fire, 
and  brooded  over  my  hard  lot.  I  was  too  hungry  to 
sleep.  While  I  sat  in  the  corner,  I  caught  sight  of 
an  ear  of  Indian  corn  on  an  upper  shelf  of  the  kitchen. 
I  watched  my  chance,  and  got  it,  and,  shelling  off  a 
few  grains,  I  put  it  back  again.  The  grains  in  my 
hand,  I  quickly  put  in  some  ashes,  and  covered  them 
with  embers,  to  roast  them.  All  this  I  did  at  the  risk 
of  getting  a  brutal  thumping,  for  Aunt  Katy  could 
beat,  as  well  as  starve  me.     My  corn  was  not  long  in 


56  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

roasting,  and,  ^itli  my  keen  appetite,  it  did.  not  mat- 
ter even  if  the  grains  were  not  exactly  done.  I  eagerly 
pulled  them  out,  and  placed  them  on  my  stool,  in  a 
clever  little  pile.  Just  as  I  began  to  help  myself  to 
my  very  dry  meal,  in  came  my  dear  mother.  And 
now,  dear  reader,  a  scene  occurred  v^rhich  was  alto- 
gether w^orth  beholding,  and  to  me  it  was  instructive 
as  well  as  interesting.  The  friendless  and  hungry 
boy,  in  his  extremest  need — and  v/hen  he  did  not  dare 
to  look  for  succor — found  himself  in  the  strong,  pro- 
tecting arms  of  a  mother ;  a  mother  who  was,  at  the 
moment  (being  endowed  with  high  powers  of  manner 
as  well  as  matter)  more  than  a  match  for  all  his  ene- 
mies. I  shall  never  forget  the  indescribable  expression 
of  her  countenance,  when  I  told  her  that  I  had  had  no 
food  since  morning;  and  that  Aunt  Katy  said  she 
"  meant  to  starve  the  life  out  of  me."  There  was  pity 
in  her  glance  af  me,  and  a  fiery  indignation  at  Aunt 
Katy  at  the  same  time ;  and,  w^hile  she  took  the  corn 
from  me,  and  gave  me  a  large  ginger  cake,  in  its  stead, 
she  read  Aunt  Katy  a  lecture  which  she  never  forgot. 
My  mother  threatened  her  with  comj)laining  to  old 
master  in  my  behalf;  for  the  latter,  though  harsh  and 
cruel  himself,  at  times,  did  not  sanction  the  meanness, 
injustice,  partiality  and  oppressions  enacted  by  Aunt 
^^aty  in  the  kitchen.  That  night  I  learned  the  fact, 
]tli4tJj^3jiot_onl^La^h^  The 
^  sweet  cake"  my  mother  gave  m.e  was  in  the  shape 
of  a  heart,  with  a  rich,  dark  ring  glazed  upon  the  edge 
of  it.  I  was  victorious,  and  well  off  for  the  moment ; 
prouder,  on  my  mother's  knee,  than  a  king  upon  his 
throne.     But  my  triumph  was  short.    I  dropped  off  to 


DICATH  OF  MY  MOTHEE.  57 

sleep,  and  waked  in  the  morning  only  to  find  iny 
motlier  gone,  and  myself  left  at  the  mercy  of  the  sable 
virago,  dominant  in  my  old  master's  kitchen,  whose 
fiery  wrath  was  my  constant  dread. 

I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  my  mother  after 
this  occurrence.  Death  soon  ended  the  little  com- 
munication that  had  existed  between  us;  and  with  it,. 
I  believe,  a  life — judging  from  her  weary,  sad,  down-' 
cast  countenance  and  mute  demeanor — full  of  heart- 
felt sorrow.  I  was  not  allowed  to  visit  her  durimr 
any  part  of  her  long  illness ;  nor  did  I  see  her  for  a 
long  time  before  she  was  taken  ill  and  died.  The 
heartless  and  ghastly  form  of  slavery  rises  between 
mother  and  child,  even  at  the  bed  of  death.  The 
mother,  at  the  verge  of  the  grave,  may  not  gather  her 
children,  to  impart  to  them  her  holy  admonitions,  and 
invoke  for  them  her  dying  benediction.  The  bond- 
woman lives  as  a  slave,  and  is  left  to  die  as  a  beast ; 
often  with  fewer  attentions  than  are  paid  to  a  favorite 
horse.  Scenes  of  sacred  tenderness,  around  the  death- 
bed, never  forgotten,  and  which  often  arrest  the 
vicious  and  confirm  the  virtuous  during  life,  must  be 
looked  for  among  the  free,  though  they  sometimes 
occur  among  the  slaves.  It  has  been  a  life-long, 
standing  grief  to  me,  that  I  knew  so  little  of  my 
mother ;  and  that  I  was  so  early  separated  from  her. 
The  counsels  of  her  love  must  have  been  beneficial  to 
me.  The  side  view  of  her  face  is  imaged  on  my 
memory,  and  I  take  few  steps  in  life,  without  feeling 
her  presence ;  but  the  image  is  mute,  and  I  have  no 
striking  words  of  her's  treasured  up.  '^ 

I  learned,  after  my  mother's  death,  that  she  could 


68  LIFE  AS   A  SLAVE. 

read,  and  that  she  was  the  only  one  of  all  the  slaves 
and  colored  people  in  Tuckahoe  who  enjoyed  that 
advantage.  How  she  acqnired  this  knowledge,  I 
know  not,  for  Tuckahoe  is  the  last  place  in  the  world 
where  she  would  be  apt  to  find  facilities  for  learning. 
I  can,  therefore,  fondly  and  proudly  ascribe  to  her  an 
earnest  love  of  knowledge.  Tliat  a  "field  hand" 
should  learn  to  read,  in  any  slave  state,  is  remarkable ; 
but  the  achievement  of  my  mother,  considering  the 
place,  was  very  extraordinary ;  and,  in  view  of  that 
fact,  I  am  quite  willing,  and  even  happy,  to  attribute 
any  love  of  letters  I  possess,  and  for  which  I  have  got 
— despite  of  prejudices — only  too  much  credit,  not  to 
my  admitted  Anglo-Saxon  paternity,  but  to  the  native 
genius  of  my  sable,  unprotected,  and  uncultivated 
raotlter — a  woman,  who  belonged  to  a  race  whose 
mental  endowments  it  is,  at  present,  fashionable  to 
hold  in  disparagement  and  contempt. 

Summoned  away  to  her  account,  with  the  impassa- 
ble gulf  of  slavery  between  us  during  her  entire  illness, 
my  mother  died  without  leaving  me  a  single  intima- 
tion of  loho  my  father  was.  There  was  a  whisper, 
that  my  master  was  my  father ;  yet  it  was  only  a  whis- 
per, and  I  cannot  say  that  I  ever  gave  it  credence. 
Indeed,  I  now  have  reason  to  think  he  was  not;  nev- 
ertheless, the  fact  remains,  in  all  its  glaring  odioiisness, 
that,  by  the  laws  of  slavery,  children,  in  all  cases,  are 
reduced  to  the  condition  of  their  mothers.  This  ar- 
rangement admits  of  the  greatest  license  to  brutal 
slaveholders,  and  their  profiigate  sons,  brothers,  rela- 
tions and  friends,  and  gives  to  the  pleasure  of  sin,  the 
additional  attraction  of  profit.     A  whole  volume  might 


PENALTY  FOR   HAVING  A  WHITE  FATHER.  69 

be  written  on  this  s'ngle  feature  of  slavery,  as  I  have 
observed  it. 

One  might  imagine,  that  the  children  of  such  con- 
nections, would  fare  better,  in  the  hands  of  their  mas- 
ters, than  other  slaves.  The  rule  is  quite  the  other 
way ;  and  a  very  little  reflection  will  satisfy  the  reader 
that  such  is  the  case.  A  man  who  will  enslave  his 
own  blood,  may  not  be  safely  relied  on  for  magna- 
nimity. Men  do  not  love  those  who  remind  them  of 
their  sins — unless  they  have  a  mind  to  repent — and  the 
mulatto  child's  face  is  a  standing  accusation  against 
him  who  is  master  and  father  to  the  child.  What  is 
still  worse,  perhaps,  such  a  child  is  a  constant  offense 
to  the  wife.  She  hates  its  very  presence,  and  when 
a  slaveholding  woman  hates,  she  wants  not  means  to 
give  that  hate  telling  effect.  Women — white  women, 
I  mean — are  idols  at  the  south,  not  wives,  for  the  slave 
women  are  preferred  in  many  instances ;  and  if  these 
idols  but  nod,  or  lift  a  finger,  woe  to  the  poor  victim  : 
kicks,  cuffs  and  stripes  are  sure  to  follow.  Masters 
are  frequently  compelled  to  sell  this  class  of  their 
slaves,  out  of  deference  to  the  feelings  of  their  white 
wives ;  and  shocking  and  scandalous  as  it  may  seem 
for  a  man  to  sell  his  own  blood  to  the  traffickers  in  hu- 
man flesh,  it  is  often  an  act  of  humanity  toward  the 
slave-child  to  be  thus  removed  from  his  merciless 
tormentors. 

It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  the  design  of  my  simple 
story,  to  comment  upon  every  phase  of  slavery  not 
within  my  experience  as  a  slave. 

But,  I  may  remark,  that,  if  the  lineal  descendants 
of  Ham  are   only  to  be  enslaved,  according  to  the 


60  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

scriptures,  slavery  in  tliis  country  will  soon  become 
an  unscriptural  institution  ;  for  thousands  are  ushered 
into  tlie  world,  annually,  who — like  myself — owe  their 
existence  to  white  fathers,  and,  most  frequently,  to 
tlieir  masters,  and  master's  sons.  The  slave- woman 
-s  at  the  mercv  of  the  fathers,  sons  or  brothers  of  her 
master.     The  thouo-htful  know  the  rest. 

''  After  what  I  have  now  said  of  the  circumstances 
of  my  mother,  and  my  relations  to  her,  the  reader 
will  not  be  surprised,  nor  be  disposed  to  censure  me, 
when  I  tell  but  the  simple  truth,  viz  :  that  I  received 
the  tidings  of  her  death  with  no  strong  emotions  of 
sorrow  for  her,  and  with  very  little  regret  for  mj^self 
on  account  of  her  loss.  I  liad  to  learn  the  value  of 
mj  mother  long  after  her  death,  and  by  witnessing 
the  devotion  of  other  mothers  to  their  children. 

There  is  not,  beneath  the  sky,  an  enemy  to  filial 
affection  so  destructive  as  slaverj^  It  had  made  my 
brothers  and  sisters  strangers  to  me  ;  it  converted  the 
mother  that  bore  me,  into  a  myth ;  it  shrouded  my 
father  in  mystery,  and  left  me  without  an  intelligible 
beoi:innino;  in  the  world. 

My  mother  died  when  I  could  not  have  been  more 
than  eight  or  nine  years  old,  on  one  of  old  master's 
farms  in  Tuckahoe,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Hillsbor- 
ough.    Her   grave  is,  as  the  grave  of  the  dead   at 

.  sea,  unmarked,  and  without  stone  or  stake. 


CHAPTER  I\^. 

A  GENERAL  SURVEY  OF   THE   SLAVE   PLANTATION. 

LSOLATION     OF  LLOYD's    PLANTATION PUBLIC    OPINION    THERE    NO     PROTEC- 
TION    TO    THE     SLAVE ABSOLUTE   POWER     OF     THE   OVERSEER NATURAL 

AND    ARTIFICIAL    CHARMS    OF  THE  PLACE ITS  BUSINESS-LIKE  APPEARANCE 

SUPERSTITION     ABOUT     THE    BURIAL     GROUND — GREAT     IDEAS     OF     COL. 

LLOYD ETIQUETTE    AMONG    SLAVES THE    COMIC  SLAVE     DOCTOR PRAY- 
ING AND  FLOGGING "  OLD  MASTER"  LOSING  ITS  TERRORS HIS  BUSINESS 

CHARACTER    OF    "  AUNT    KATy" SUFFERINGS  FROM  HUNGER OLD  MAS 

TER's     HOME JARGON     OF    THE     PLANTATION GUINEA    SLAVES MASTER 

DANIEL FAMILY  OF  COL.  LLOYD FAMILY  OF  CAPT.  ANTHONY HIS  SOCIAL 

POSITION NOTIONS  OF  RANK  AND  STATION. 

It  is  generally  supposed  that  slavery,  in  the  state 
of  Maryland,  exists  in  its  mildest  form,  and  that  it  is 
totally  divested  of  those  harsh  and  terrible  ijecnliari- 
ties,  which  mark  and  characterize  the  slave  system, 
in  the  southern  and  south-western  states  of  the  Amer- 
ican union.  The  argument  in  favor  of  this  opinion, 
is  the  contiguity  of  the  free  states,  and  the  exposed 
condition  of  slavery  in  Maryland  to  the  moral,  re- 
ligious and  humane  sentiment  of  the  free  states. 

I  am  not  about  to  refute  this  argument,  so  far  as  it 
relates  to  slavery  in  that  State,  generally  ;  on  the 
contrary,  I  am  willing  to  admit  that,  to  this  general 
point,  the  argument  is  well  grounded.  Public  opinion 
is,  indeed,  an  unfailing  restraint  upon  the  cruelty  and 
barbarity  of  masters,  overseers,  and  slave-drivers, 
whenever  and  wherever  it  can  reach  them  ;  but  there 


62  ISOLATION    OF  LLOYD'S  PLANTATION. 

are  certain  secluded  and  oiit-of-the  way  places,  even 
in  the  state  of  Maryland,  seldom  visited  by  a  single 
ray  of  healthy  public  sentiment — where  slavery,  wrapt 
in  its  own  congenial,  midnight  darkness,  can^  and 
does,  develop  all  its  malign  and  shocking  characteris- 
tics ;  where  it  can  be  indecent  without  shame,  cruel 
without  shuddering,  and  murderous  without  appre- 
hension or  fear  of  exposure. 

Just  such  a  secluded,  dark,  and  out-of-the-way  place, 
is  the  "  home  plantation"  of  Col.  Edward  Lloyd,  on 
the  Eastern  Shore,  Maryland.  It  is  far  away  from 
all  the  great  thoroughfares,  and  is  proximate  to  no 
town  or  village.  There  is  neither  school-house,  nor 
town-house  in  its  neighborhood.  Tlie  school-house  is 
unnecessary,  for  there  are  no  children  to  go  to  school. 
The  children  and  grand-children  of  Col.  Lloyd  were 
taught  in  the  house,  by  a  private  tutor — a  Mr.  Pago — 
a  tall,  gaunt  sapling  of  a  man,  who  did  not  speak  a 
dozen  words  to  a  slave  in  a  whole  year.  The  over- 
seers' children  go  off  somewhere  to  school ;  and  they, 
therefore,  bring  no  foreign  or  dangerous  influence  from 
abroad,  to  embarrass  the  natural  operation  of  the 
slave  system  of  the  place.  l!^ot  even  the  mechanics — 
through  whom  there  is  an  occasional  out-burst  of 
honest  and  telling  indignation,  at  cruelty  and  wrong 
on  other  plantations — are  white  men,  on  this  planta- 
tion. Its  whole  public  is  made  up  of,  and  divided 
into,  three  classes — slaveholders,  slaves  and  over- 
SEERS.  Its  blacksmiths,  wheelwrights,  shoemakers, 
weavers,  and  coopers,  are  slaves.  JSTot  even  com- 
merce, selfish  and  iron-hearted  at  it  is,  and  ready,  as 
it  ever  is,  to  side  with  the  strong  against  the  weak — 


SLAVES  XJNPEOTECTED  BY  PUBLIC  OPINION.  63 

the  rich  against  the  poor — is  trusted  or  permitted "" 
within  its  secluded  precincts.  Whether  with  a  view 
of  guarding  against  the  escape  of  its  secrets,  I  know 
not,  but  it  is  a  fact,  that  every  leaf  and  grain  of  the 
produce  of  this  plantation,  and  those  of  the  neighboring 
farms  belonging  to  Col.  Lloyd,  are  transported  to  Bal- 
timore in  Col.  Lloyd's  own  vessels ;  every  man  and 
boy  on  board  of  which — except  the  captain — are 
owned  by  him.  In  return,  everything  brought  to  the 
plantation,  comes  through  the  same  channel.  Thus, 
even  the  glimmering  and  unsteady  light  of  trade, 
which  sometimes  exerts  a  civilizing  influence,  is  ex- 
cluded from  this  "  tabooed"  spot.  j 

lN"early  all  the  plantations  or  farms  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  "  home  plantation"  of  Col.  Lloyd,  belong  to 
him ;  and  those  which  do  not,  are  owned  by  personal 
friends  of  his,  as  deeply  interested  in  maintaining 
the  slave  system,  in  all  its  rigor,  as  CoL  Lloyd  him- 
self. Some  of  his  neighbors  are  said  to  be  even  more 
stringent  than  he.  The  Skinners,  the  Peakers,  the 
Tilgmans,  the  Lockermans,  and  the  Gipsons,  are  in  the 
same  boat ;  being  slaveholding  neighbors,  they  may 
have  strengthened  each  other  in  their  iron  rule.  They 
are  on  intimate  terms,  and  their  interests  and  tastes 
are  identical. 

Public  opinion  in  such  a  quarter,  the  reader  will  see, 
is  not  likely  to  be  very  eflicient  in  protecting  the  slave 
from  cruelty.  On  the  contrary,  it  must  increase  and 
intensify  his  wrongs.  Public  opinion  seldom  differs 
very  widely  from  public  practice.  To  be  a  restraint 
upon  cruelty  and  vice,  public  opinion  must  emanate 
from  a  humane  and  virtuous  community.     To  no  such 


■^ 


64:  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

Immaiie  and  virtuous  community,  is  Col.  Lloyd's  plan 
'  tation  exposed.     That  plantation  is  a  little  nation  of 
its  own,  having  its  own  language,  its  own  rules,  regu- 
lations and  customs.      The  laws  and  institutions  of  the 
state,   apparently  touch  it  nowhere.      The  troubles 
arising  here,  are  not  settled  by  the  civil  power  of  the 
(^  state.     The  overseer  is  generally  accuser,  judge,  jury, 
i    advocate  and  executioner.     The  criminal  is  always 
Cjdumb.     The  overseer  attends  to  all  sides  of  a  case. 
There  are  no  conflicting  rights  of  property,  for  all 
the  people   are  owned  by  one  man  ;   and  they  can 
themselves  own  no  property.     Religion  and  politics 
are  alike  excluded.     One  class  of  the  population  is  too 
high  to  be  reached  by  the  preacher;  and  the  other 
class  is  too  low  to  be  cared  for  by  the  preacher.     The 
poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them,  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, only  when  they  are  able  to  pay  for  it.     The 
slaves,  having  no  money,  get  no  gospel.     The  poli- 
tician keeps  away,  because  the  peopla  have  no  votes, 
and  the  preacher  keeps  away,  because  the  people  have 
no  money.  The  rich  planter  can  afibrd  to  learn  politics 
in  the  parlor,  and  to  dispense  with  religion  altogether. 
In  its  isolation,  seclusion,  and  self-reliant  indepen- 
>-dence,  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation  resembles  what  the 
baronial  domains  were,   during   the  middle  ages  in  • 
Europe.  Grim,  cold,  and  unapproachable  by  all  genial  = 
i     influences  from  communities  without,  there  it  stands  ^ 


sj      \    full  three  hundred  years  behind  the  age,  in  all  that 
relates  to  humanity  and  morals. 

This,  however,  is  not  the  only  view  that  the  place 
presents.  Civilization  is  shut  out,  but  nature  cannot 
be.     Though  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  world ; 


CONTRAST   TO   TrCKAnOE.  C5 

thfitigli  public  opinion,  as  I  have  said,  seldom  gets  a 
chance  to   penetrate  its  dark   domain ;  though   the 
whole  place   is  stamped  witli  its  own  peculiar,  iron- 
like individuality  ;  and  though  crimes,  high-lianded 
and  atrocious,  may  there  be  committed,  with  almost 
as  much  impunity  as  upon  the  deck  of  a  pirate  ship, — 
it  is,  nevertheless,  altogether,  to  outward  seeming,  a 
rr]n^t  strikingly  interesting  place,  full  of  life,  activity, 
nnd  spirit ;  and  presents  a  veiyTavoraBTe  contrast  to 
the  indolent  monotony  and  languor  of  Tuckahoe.  Keen 
as  was  m}'"  regret   and  great  as  was   my  sorrow  at 
leaving  the  latter,  I  was  not  long  in  adapting  myself 
to  this,  my  new  home.     A  man's  troubles  are  always 
half  disposed  of,  when  he  finds  endurance  his  only 
remedy.     I  found  myself  here  ;  there  was  no  getting 
away ;  and  what  remained  for  me,  but  to  make  the 
best  of  it  ?     Here  were  plenty  of  children  to  play  with, 
and  plenty  of  places  of  pleasant  resort  for  boys  of  my 
age,  and  boys  older.     The  little  tendrils  of  affection, 
so  rudely  and  treacherously  broken  from  around  the 
darling  objects  of  my  grandmother's  hut,  gradually 
began  to  extend,  and  to  entwine  about  the  new  objects 
by  which  I  now  found  myself  surrounded. 

There  was  a  windmill  (always  a  commanding  object 
to  a  child's  eye)  on  Long  Point — a  tract  of  land  divi- 
ding Miles  river  from  the  AYye — a  mile  or  more  from 
my  old  master's  house.  There  was  a  creek  to  swim  in, 
at  the  bottom  of  an  open  flat  space,  of  twenty  acres  or 
more,  called  "the  Long  Green" — a  very  beautiful 
play -ground  for  the  children- 

Li  the  river,  a  short  distance  from  the  shore,  lying 
quietly  at  anchor,  with  her  small  boat  dancing  at  her 

5 


66  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

etern,  was  a  large  sloop — the  Sally  Lloyd  ;  called  by 
that  name  in  honor  of  a  favorite  daughter  of  the 
colonel.  The  sloop  and  the  mill  were  wondrous 
things,  full  of  thoughts  and  ideas.  A  child  cannot 
w^ell  look  at  such  objects  without  thbiJdng. 

Then  here  were  a  great  niapy  houses ;  human  habi- 
tations, full  of  the  mysteries  of  life  at  every  stage  of 
it.  There  was  the  little  red  rimise7up"the  road,  occu- 
pied by  Mr.  Sevier,  the  overseer.  A  little  nearer  to 
my  old  master's,  stood  a  very  long,  rough,  low  build- 
ing, literally  alive  with  slaves,  of  all  ages,  conditions 
and  sizes.  This  v/as  called  "  the  Long  Quarter." 
Perched  upon  a  hill,  across  the  Long  Green,  was  a 
very  tall,  dilapidated,  old  brick  building — the  archi- 
tectural dimensions  of  which  proclaimed  its  erection 
for  a  different  purpose — now  occupied  by  slaves,  in 
a  similar  manner  to  the  Long  Quarter.  Besides 
these,  there  were  numerous  other  slave  houses  and 
huts,  scattered  around  in  the  neighborhood,  every 
nook  and  corner  of  which  was  completely  occupied. 
Old  master's  house,  a  long,  brick  building,  plain,  but 
substantial,  stood  in  the  center  of  the  plantation  life, 
and  constituted  one  independent  establishment  on  the 
premises  of  Col.  Lloyd. 

Besides  these  dwellings,  there  were  barns,  stables, 
store-houses,  and  tobacco-houses  ;  blacksmiths'  shops, 
wheelwrights'  shops,  coopers'  shops — all  objects  of 
interest ;  but,  above  all,  there  stood  the  grandest 
building  my  eyes  had  then  ever  beheld,  called,  by 
every  one  on  the  plantation,  the  "  Great  House." 
This  was  occupied  by  Col.  Lloyd  and  his  family. 
They  occupied  it ;  I  enjoyed  it.     TIjg   great  house 


c 


CHAKMS  OF  THE  PLACE.  "  67 

Tvas  surrounded  by  mimerous  and  variously  shaped 
out-buildings.  There  were  kitchens,  wash-houses, 
dairies,  summer-house,  green-houses,  hen-houses,  tur- 
key-houses, pigeon-houses,  and  arbors,  of  many  sizes 
and  devices,  all  neatly  painted,  and  altogether  inter- 
spersed with  grand  old  trees,  ornamental  and  primi- 
tive, which  afforded  delightful  shade  in  summer,  and 
imparted  to  the  scene  a  high  degree  of  stately  beauty. 
The  great  house  itself  was  a  large,  w^hite,  wooden 
building,  with  wings  on  three  sides  of  it.  In  front,  a 
large  portico,  extending  the  entire  length  of  the  build- 
ing, and  supported  by  a  long  range  of  columns,  gave 
to  the  whole  establishment  an  air  of  solemn  grandeur. 
It  was  a  treat  to  my  young  and  gradually  opening 
mind,  to  behold  this  elaborate  exhibition  of  w^ealth, 
power,  and  vanity.  The  carriage  entrance  to  the 
house  wTtS  a  large  gate,  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant  from  it;  the  intermediate  space  was  a  beau- 
tiful lawn,  very  neatly  trimmed,  and  watched  with 
the  greatest  care.  It  was  dotted  thickly  over  with 
delightful  trees,  shrubbery,  and  flowers.  The  road, 
or  lane,  from  the  gate  to  the  great  house,  was 
richly  paved  with  white  pebbles  from  the  beach,  and, 
in  its  course,  formed  a  complete  circle  around  the 
beautiful  lawn.  Carriages  going  in  and  retiring  from 
the  great  house,  made  the  circuit  of  the  lawn,  and 
their  passengers  were  permitted  to  behold  a  scene  of 
almost  Eden-like  beauty.  Outside  this  select  in- 
closure,  were  parks,  where — as  about  the  residences 
of  tlic  English  nobility — rabbits,  deer,  and  other  wild 
game,  might  be  seen,  peering  and  playing  about, 
with  none  to  molest  them  or  make  them  afraid.     The 


6S  LIFE  AS    A  SLAVE. 

tops  of  tlie  stately  poplars  were  often  covered  with 
the  red-winged  black-birds,  making  all  nature  vocal 
with  the  joyous  life  and  beauty  of  their  wild,  warbling 
notes.  These  all  belonged  to  me,  as  well  as  to  Col. 
Edward  Lloyd,  and  for  a  time  I  greatly  enjoyed  them. 

A  short  distance  from  the  great  house,  were  the 
stately  mansions  of  the  dead,  a  place  of  somber  as- 
pect. Yast  tombs,  embowered  beneath  the  weeping 
willow  and  the  fir  tree,  told  of  the  antiquities  of  the 
Lloyd  family,  as  well  as  of  their  wealth.  Supersti- 
tion was  rife  among  the  slaves  about  this  family  bury- 
ing ground.  Strange  sights  had  been  seen  there  by 
some  of  the  older  slaves.  Shrouded  ghosts,  riding 
on  great  black  horses,  had  been  seen  to  enter ;  balls  of 
fire  had  been  seen  to  fly  there  at  midnight,  and  horrid 
sounds  had  been  repeatedly  heard.  Slaves  know 
enough  of  the  rudiments  of  theology  to  believe  that 
those  go  to  hell  who  die  slaveholders  ;  and  they  often 
fancy  such  persons  v^ishing  themselves  back  again, 
to  wield  the  lash.  Tales  of  sights  and  sounds,  strange 
and  terrible,  connected  with  the  huge  black  tombs, 
were  a  very  great  security  to  the  grounds  about  them, 
for  few  of  the  slaves  felt  like  approaching  them  even 
in  the  day  time.  It  was  a  dark,  gloomy  and  forbid- 
ding place,  and  it  was  difficult  to  feel  that  the  spirits 
of  the  sleeping  dust  there  deposited,  reigned  with  the 
blest  in  the  realms  of  eternal  peace. 

The  business  of  twenty  or  thirty  farms  was  trans- 
acted at  this,  called,  by  way  of  eminence,  "  great 
house  farm."  These  farms  all  belonged  to  Col.  Lloyd, 
as  did,  also,  the  slaves  upon  them.  Each  farm  was 
under  the  management  of  an  overseer.     As  I  have 


ETIQUETTE  AMONG  SLAVES.  69 

said  of  the  overseer  of  the  home  plantation,  so  I  may 
say  of  the  overseers  on  tlie  smaller  ones ;  they  stand 
between  the  slave  and  all  civil  constitutions — their 
word  is  law,  and  is  implicitly  obeyed. 

The  colonel,  at  this  time,  was  reputed  to  be,  and  he 
apparently  was,  very  rich.  His  slaves,  alone,  were 
an  immense  fortune.  These  small  and  great,  could 
not  have  been  fewer  than  one  thousand  in  number, 
and  though  scarcely  a  month  passed  without  the  sale 
of  one  or  more  lots  to  the  Georma  traders,  there  was 
no  apparent  diminution  in  the  number  of  his  human 
stock  :  the  home  plantation  merely  groaned  at  a  re- 
moval of  the  young  increase,  or  human  crop,  then 
proceeded  as  lively  as  ever.  Horse-shoeing,  cart- 
mending,  plow-repairing,  coopering,  grinding,  and 
weaving,  for  all  the  neighboring  farms,  were  performed 
here,  and  slaves  were  employed  in  all  these  branches. 
"  Uncle  Tony  "  was  the  blacksmith  ;  "  Uncle  Harry  " 
was  the  cartwright ;  "  Uncle  Abel "  was  the  shoema- 
ker ;  and  all  these  had  hands  to  assist  them  in  their 
several  departments. 

These  mechanics  were  called  ''  uncles"  by  all  the 
younger  slaves,  not  because  they  really  sustained  that 
relationship  to  any,  but  according  to  plantation  eti- 
quette, as  a  mark  of  respect,  due  from  the  younger  to 
the  older  slaves.  Strange,  and  even  ridiculous  as  it 
may  seem,  among  a  people  so  uncultivated,  and  with 
so  many  stern  trials  to  look  in  the  face,  there  is  not 
to  be  found,  among  any  people,  a  more  rigid  enforce- 
ment of  the  law  of  respect  to  elders,  than  they  main- 
tain. I  set  this  down  as  partly  constitutional  with 
my  race,  and  partly  conventional.    There  is  no  better 


70  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

material  in  the  world  for  makinoc  a  o^entleman,  tliari 
is  furnished  in  the  African.  He  shows  to  others,  and 
exacts  for  himself,  all  the  tokens  of  respect  which  he 
is  compelled  to  manifest  toward  his  master.  A  young 
slave  must  approach  the  company  of  the  older  with 
hat  in  hand,  and  woe  betide  him,  if  he  fails  to  ac- 
knowledge a  favor,  of  any  sort,  with  the  accustomed 
''  tanli!ee^''  &c.  So  uniformly  are  good  manners  en- 
forced amoug  slaves,  that  I  can  easily  detect  a  "  bo- 
gus "  fugitive  by  his  manners. 

Among  other  slave  notabilities  of  the  plantation, 
was  one  called  by  everybody  Uncle  Isaac  Copper.  It 
is  seldom  that  a  slave  gets  a  surname  from  anybody 
in  Maryland ;  and  so  completely  has  the  south  shaped 
the  manners  of  the  north,  in  this  respect,  that  even 
abolitionists  make  very  little  of  the  surname  of  a 
negro.  The  only  improvement  on  the  "Bills," 
"  Jacks,"  "  Jims,"  and  "  ]^eds  "  of  the  south,  obser- 
vable here  is,  that  "  William,"  "  John,"  "  James," 
"  Edward,"  are  substituted.  It  goes  against  the  grain 
to  treat  and  address  a  negro  precisely  as  they  w^ould 
treat  and  address  a  white  man.  But,  once  in  a  while, 
in  slavery  as  iw  the  free  states,  by  some  extraordinary 
circumstance,  the  negro  has  a  surname  fastened  to 
him,  and  holds  it  against  all  conventionalties.  This 
was  the  case  with  Uncle  Isaac  Cop2:>er.  When  the 
"  uncle  "  was  dropped,  he  generally  had  the  prefix 
"  doctor,"  in  its  stead.  He  was  our  doctor  of  medi- 
cine, and  doctor  of  divinity  as  well.  Where  he  took 
his  degree  I  am  unable  to  say,  for  he  was  not  very 
communicative  to  inferiors,  and  I  was  emphatically 
such,  being  but  a  boy  seven  or  eight  years  old.     lie 


PKAYING    AND  FLOGGING.  Tl 

was  too  well  established  in  liis  profession  to  permit 
questions  as  to  his  native  skill,  or  his  attainments. 
One  qualification  he  undoubtedly  had — he  was  a  con- 
firmed crvpjple  /  and  he  could  neither  work,  nor  would 
he  bring  anything  if  oft'ered  for  sale  in  the  market. 
The  old  man,  though  lame,  was  no  sluggard.  He 
was  a  man  that  made  his  crutches  do  him  good  ser- 
vice. He  was  always  on  the  alert,  looking  up  the 
sick,  and  all  such  as  were  su2)posed  to  need  his  counsel. 
His  remedial  prescriptions  embraced  four  articles. 
For  diseases  of  the  body,  Ej)soin  salts  and  castor  oil  y 
for  those  of  the  60ul,<^i^  LorcVs  Prayev^  and  hickory 
svjitches  ! 

I  was  not  long  at  Col.  Lloyd's  before  I  was  placed 
under  the  care  of  Doctor  Isaac  Copper.  I  was  sent 
to  him  with  twenty  or  thirty  other  children,  to  learn 
the  "Lord's  Prayer."  I  found  the  old  gentleman 
seated  on  a  huge  three-legged  oaken  stool,  armed  with 
several  large  hickory  switches ;  and,  from  his  position, 
he  could  reach — lame  as  he  was — anv  bov  in  the 
room.  After  standing  awhile  to  learn  what  was  ex- 
pected of  us,  the  old  gentleman,  in  any  other  than  a 
devotional  tone,  commanded  us  to  kneel  down.  This 
done,  he  commenced  telling  us  to  say  everything  he 
said.  "Our  Father" — this  v/e  repeated  after  him 
with  promptness  and  uniformity ;  "  ^\\''lio  art  in 
heaven  " — was  less  promptly  and  uniformly  rej^eaied  ; 
and  the  old  gentleman  paused  in  the  praj-er,  to  give 
us  a  short  lecture  upon  the  consequences  of  inatten- 
tion, both  immediate  and  future,  and  especially  those 
more  immediate.  About  these  he  was  absolutely 
certain,  for  he  held  in  his  right  hand  the  means  of 


72  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

bringing  all  liis  predictions  and  warnings  to  pass- 
On  lie  proceeded  with  the  prayer;  and  we  with  our 
Lick  tongues  and  unskilled  ears,  followed  hira  to  the 
best  of  our  ability.  This,  however,  was  not  sufficient 
to  please  the  old  gentleman.  Everybody,  in  the 
south,  wants  the  privilege  of  whipping  somebody 
else.  Uncle  Isaac  shared  the  common  passion  of  his 
country,  and,  therefore,  seldom  found  any  means  of 
keeping  his  disciples  in  order  short  of  flogging.  "  Say 
everything  I  say ;  '^  and  bang  vv-onld  come  the  switch 
on  some  poor  boy's  iindevotional  head.  "  What  you 
looking  at  there^^ — -^^ Stoj)  that ])usliing'^^  —  and  down 
asrain  would  come  the  lash. 

The  whip  is  all  in  all.  It  is  supposed  to  secure  obe- 
dience to  the  slaveholder,  and  is  held  as  a  sovereign 
remedy  among  the  slaves  themselves,  for  every  form 
of  disobedience,  temporal  or  spiritual.  Slaves,  as 
well  as  slaveholders,  use  it  with  an  unsparing  hand. 
Our  devotions  at  Uncle  Isaac's  combined  too  much 
of  the  tragic  and  comic,  to  make  them  very  salutary 
in  a  spiritual  point  of  view  ;  and  it  is  due  to  truth  to 
say,  I  was  often  a  truant  when  the  time  for  attending 
the  praying  and  flogging  of  Doctor  Isaac  Copper 
came  on. 

The  windmill  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Kinney,  a  kind 
hearted  old  Englishman,  was  to  me  a  source  of  infi- 
nite interest  and  pleasure.  The  old  man  always 
seemed  pleased  when  he  saw  a  troop  of  darkey  little 
urchins,  with  their  tow-linen  shirts  fluttering  in  the 
breeze,  approaching  to  view  and  admire  the  whirling 
winjrs  of  his  wondrous  maciiine.  From  the  mill  we 
could  see  other  objects  of  deep  interest. ,  These  were, 


«  /^r-r.    T,r*OMM..T,  " 


OLD  AtASTEFw       LOSING  ITS  TEIiKOES.  73 

the  vessels  from  St.  Michael's,  on  their  way  to  Balti- 
more. It  was  a  source  of  much  amusement  to  view 
the  flowing  sails  and  complicated  rigging,  as  the  lit- 
tle crafts  dashed  by,  and  to  speculate  upon  Baltimore, 
as  to  the  kind  and  cpialiij  of  the  place.  Witli  so 
many  sources  of  interest  around  me,  the  reader  may  be 
prepared  to  learn  that  I  began  to  think  very  highly 
of  Col.  L.'s  plantation.  It  was  just  a  place  to  my 
boyish  taste.  There  were  fish  to  be  caught  in  the 
creek,  if  one  only  had  a  hook  and  line ;  and  crabs, 
clams  and  oysters  were  to  be  caught  by  wading,  dig- 
ging and  raking  for  them.  Here  w\as  a  Held  for 
industry  and  enterprise,  strongly  inviting;  and  the 
reader  may  be  assured  that  I  entered  upon  it  with 
spirit. 

Even  the  much  dreaded  old  master,  whose  merci- 
less fiat  had  brought  me  from  Tuckahoe,  gradually,  to 
my  mind,  parted  with  his  terrors.  Strange  enough,  his 
reverence  seemed  to  take  no  particular  notice  of  me, 
nor  of  my  coming.  Instead  of  leaping  out  and  de- 
vouring me,  he  scarcely  seemed  conscious  of  my  pres- 
ence. The  fact  is,  he  was  occupied  with  matters 
more  weighty  and  important  than  either  looking  af- 
ter or  vexing  me.  He  probably  thought  as  little  of 
my  advent,  as  he  would  have  thought  of  the  addition 
of  a  single  pig  to  his  stock ! 

As  the  chief  butler  on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  his 
duties  were  numerous  and  perplexing.  In  almost  all 
important  matters  he  answered  in  Col.  Lloyd's  stead. 
The  overseers  of  all  the  farms  were  in  some  sort  under 
him,  and  received  the  law  from  his  mouth.  The 
colonel  himself  seldom  addressed  an  overseer,  or  al- 
B 


74:  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

lowed  an  overseer  to  address  him.  Old  master  car- 
ried the  kevs  of  all  the  store  houses  ;  measured  out 
the  allowance  for  each  slave  at  the  end  of  every 
month ;  superintended  the  storing  of  all  goods  brought 
to  the  plantation ;  dealt  out  the  ravf  material  to  all 
the  handicraftsmen  ;  shipped  the  grain,  tobacco,  and 
all  saleable  produce  of  the  plantation  to  market, 
and  had  the  general  oversight  of  the  coopers'  shop, 
wheelwrights'  shop,  blacksmiths'  shop,  and  shoema- 
kei-s'  shop.  Besides  the  care  of  these,  he  often  had 
business  for  the  plantation  which  required  him  to  be 
absent  two  and  three  days. 

Thus  largely  employed,  he  had  litttle  time,  and 
perhaps  as  little  disposition,  to  interfere  with  the  chil- 
dren individually.  What  he  was  to  Col.  Lloyd,  he 
made  Aunt  Katy  to  him.  When  he  had  anything  to 
say  or  do  about  us,  it  was  said  or  done  in  a  wholesale 
manner  ;  disposing  of  us  in  classes  or  sizes,  leaving 
all  minor  details  to  Aunt  Katy,  a  person  of  whom  the 
reader  has  already  received  no  very  favorable  impres- 
sion. Aunt  Katv  was  a  v/oman  who  never  allowed 
herself  to  act  greatly  within  the  margin  of  power 
granted  to  her,  no  matter  how  broad  that  autliority 
might  be.  Ambitious,  ill-tempered  and  cruel,  she 
found  in  ]ier  present  position  an  ample  field  for  the 
exercise  of  her  ill-omened  qualities.  She  had  a  strong 
hold  on  old  master — she  was  considered  a  first  rate 
cook,  and  she  really  w\as  very  industrious.  She  was, 
therefore,  greatly  favored  by  old  master,  and  as  one 
mark  of  his  favor,  she  was  the  onlv  mother  who  was 
permitted  to  retain  her  children  around,  her.  Even 
to  these  children  she  was  often  fiendish  in  her  bru- 


CHARACTER  OF  AUNT   KATY.  75 

talitj.  She  pursued  her  son  Phil,  one  day,  in  my 
presence,  with  a  huge  butcher  knife,  and  dealt  a  blow 
with  its  edge  which  left  a  shocking  gash  on  his  arm, 
near  the  wrist.  For  this,  old  master  did  sharply  re- 
buke her,  and  threatened  that  if  she  ever  should  do 
the  like  again,  he  would  take  the  skin  off  her  back. 
Cruel,  however,  as  Aunt  Katy  was  to  her  own  chil- 
dren, at  times  she  was  not  destitute  of  maternal  feel- 
ing, as  I  often  had  occasion  to  know,  in  the  bitter 
pinches  of  hunger  I  had  to  endure.  Differing  from 
the  practice  of  Col.  Lloyd,  old  master,  instead  of  al- 
lowing so  much  for  each  slave,  committed  the  allow- 
ance for  all  to  the  care  of  Aunt  Katy,  to  be  divided 
after  cooking  it,  amongst  us.  The  allowance,  consist- 
ing of  coarse  corn-meal,  was  not  very  abundant — in- 
deed, it  was  very  slender  ;  and  in  passing  through 
Aunt  Katy's  hands,  it  was  made  more  slender  still, 
for  some  of  us.  AYilliam,  Phil  and  Jerry  were  her 
children,  and  it  is  not  to  accuse  her  too  severely,  to 
allege  that  she  was  often  guilty  of  starving  myself 
and  the  other  children,  Vvdiile  she  was  literally  cram- 
ming her  own.  Want  of  food  w^as  my  chief  trouble 
the  first  summer  at  my  old  master's.  Oysters  and 
clams  would  do  very  well,  with  an  occasional  supply 
of  bread,  but  the}^  soon  failed  in  the  absence  of  bread. 
I  speak  but  the  simple  truth,  when  I  say,  I  have  often 
been  so  pinched  with  hunger,  that  I  have  fought  with 
the  dog — "  Old  Nep  " — for  the  smallest  crumbs  that 
fell  from  the  kitchen  table,  and  have  been  glad  when 
I  won  a  single  crumb  in  the  combat.  Many  times 
have  I  followed,  with  eager  stej^,  the  waiting-girl 
when  she  went  out  to  shake  the  table  cloth,  to  get 


76  .  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

the  crumbs  and  small  bones  flung  out  for  the  cats. 
The  water,  in  wliicli  meat  liad  been  boiled,  was  as 
eagerly  sought  for  by  me.  It  was  a  great  tiling  to 
get  the  privilege  of  dipping  a  piece  of  bread  in  such 
water;  and  the  skin  taken  from  rusty  bacon,  was  a 
'positive  luxury.  ISTevertheless,  I  sometimes  got  full 
meals  and  kind  words  from  sympathizing  old  slaves, 
who  knew  my  sufferings,  and  received  the  comfort- 
ing assurance  that  I  should  be  a  man  some  day. 
'*  JS^ever  mind,  honey — better  day  comin',"  was  even 
then  a  solace,  a  cheering  consolation  to  me  in  my 
troubles.  Nor  were  all  the  kind  words  I  received 
from  slaves.  I  had  a  friend  in  the  parlor,  as  well, 
and  one  to  whom  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  justice,  before 
I  have  finished  this  part  of  my  story. 

I  was  not  long  at  old  master's,  before  I  learned  that 
his  surname  was  Anthony,  and  that  he  was  generally 
called  "  Captain  Anthony  " — a  title  which  he  proba- 
bly acquired  by  sailing  a  craft  in  the  Chesapeake 
Bay.  Col.  Lloyd's  slaves  never  called  Capt.  An- 
thony "  old  master,"  but  always  Capt.  Anthony ;  and 
tjig  they  called  "  Captain  Anthony  Fed."  There  is 
not,  probably,  in  the  whole  south,  a  plantation  where 
the  English  language  is  more  imperfectly  spoken  than 
on  Col.  Lloyd's.  It  is  a  mixture  of  Guinea  and  ev- 
erything else  you  please.  At  the  time. of  which  I  am 
now  writing,  there  were  slaves  there  who  had  been 
brought  from  the  coast  of  Africa.  They  never  used 
the  ",9 "  in  indication  of  the  possessive  case.  "  Cap'n 
Ant'neyTom,"  "  Lloyd  Bill,"  "  Aunt  Rose  Harry," 
means  "  Captain  Anthony's  Tom,"  "  Lloyd's  Bill," 
^&c.     "  Oo  you  clem  long  to  f  "  means,  ''  Whom  do  you 


JAEGON  OF  THE  PLANTATION.  77 

belong  to  ?  "  "  Oo  dem  got  any  peachy  f  "  means, 
''  Have  you  got  any  peaches  ? "  I  could  scarcely  un- 
derstand them  when  I  first  went  among  them,  so  bro- 
ken was  their  speech ;  and  I  am  persuaded  that  I 
could  not  have  been  dropped  anywliere  on  the  globe,  / 
where  I  could  reap  less,  in  the  way  of  kncrviJiedge,  v 
from  my  immediate  associates,  than  on  this  planta- 
tion. Even  "  Mas'  Daniel,"  bv  his  association  with 
his  father's  slaves,  had  measurably  adopted  their  dia- 
lect and  their  ideas,  so  far  as  they  had  ideas  to  be 
adopted.  The  equality  of  nature  is  strongly  asserted 
in  childhood,  and  childhood  requires  children  for  as- 
sociates. Color  makes  no  difference  with  a  ohW^Cy 
Are  you  a  child  with  wants,  tastes  and  pursuits  com- 
mon to  children,  not  put  on,  ^but  natural  ?  then, 
were  you  black  as  ebony  you  w^uld  be  welcome 
to  the  child  of  alabaster  whiteness.  The  law  of 
compensation  holds  here,  as  well  as  elsewhere.  Mas' 
Daniel  could  not  associate  with  ignorance  without 
sharing  its  shade ;  and  he  could  not  give  his  black 
playmates  his  company,  without  giving  them  his 
intelligence,  as  well.  Without  knowing  this,  or 
caring  about  it,  at  the  time,  I,  for  some  cause  or. 
other,  spent  much  of  my  time  with  Mas'  Daniel, 
in  preference  to  spending  it  with  most  of  the  other 
boys. 

Mas'  Daniel  w^as  the  youngest  son  of  Col.  Lloyd ; 
his  older  brothers  were  Edv/ard  and  Murray — both 
grown  up,  and  fine  looking  men.  Edward  was 
especially  esteemed  by  the  children,  and  by  me 
among  the  rest ;  not  that  he  ever  said  anything  to 
us  or  for  us,  which  could  be  called  especially  kind ; 


78  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

it  was  enough  for  us,  that  he  never  looked  nor 
acted  scornfully  toward  lis.  There  were  also  three 
sisters,  all  married ;  one  to  Edward  Winder ;  a  sec- 
ond to  Edward  JSTicholson  ;  a  third  to  Mr.  Lownes. 

The  family  of  old  master  consisted  of  two  sons, 
Andrew  and  Kichard ;  his  daughter,  Lucretia,  and 
her  newly  married  husband,  Capt.  Auld.  This  was 
the  house  family.  The  kitchen  family  consisted 
of  Aunt  Katy,  Aunt  Esther,  and  ten  or  a  dozen 
children,  most  of  them  older  than  myself  Capt. 
Anthony  was  not  considered  a  rich  slaveholder,  but 
was  pretty  well  off  in  the  world.  He  owned  about 
thirty  "'head''''  of  slaves,  and  three  farms  in  Tuck- 
ahoe.  The  most  valuable  part  of  his  property  was 
liis  slaves,  of  Avhom  he  could  afford  to  sell  one  ev- 
ery year.  This  crop,  therefore,  brought  him  seven 
or  eight  hundred  dollars  a  year,  besides  his  yearly 
salary,  and  other  revenue  from  his  farms, 
r"  The  idea  of  rank  and  station  was  rigidly  main- 
V.  tained  on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation.  Our  family 
never  visited  the  great  house,  and  the  Lloyds  never 
came  to  our  home.  Equal  non-intercourse  was  ob- 
served between  Capt.  Anthony's  family  and  that  of 
Mr.  Sevier,  the  overseer. 

Such,  kind  reader,  was  the  community,  and  such 
the  place,  in  which  my  earliest  and  most  lasting 
impressions  of  slavery,  and  of  slave-life,  were  re- 
ceived ;  of  which  impressions  you  will  learn  more  in 
the  coming  chap)ters  of  this  book. 


CHAPTEE  Y. 

GRADUAL  INITIATION  INTO  THE  MYSTERIES  OF  SLAVERY 

GROWING  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  OLD  MASTER — HIS  CHARACTER — EVILS  OF  UN- 
RESTRAINED   PASSION APPARENT    TENDERNESS — OLD    MASTER  A    MAN  OF 

TROUBLE CUSTOM    OF    MUTTERING    TO     HIMSELF NECESSITY    OF     BEIxVG 

AWARE  OF    HIS  AVORDS THE    SUPPOSED    OBTUSENESS    OF  SLAVE-CHILDREN 

BRUTAL  OUTRAGE DRUNKEN    OVERSEER SLAVEHOLDERS*    IMPATIENCE 

WISDOM  OF  ArPEALINGTO  SUPERIORS THE  SLAVEHOLDER'S  WRATH  BAD 

AS  THAT  OF  THE  OVERSEER A  BASE  AND  SELFISH  ATTEMPT  TO  BREAK  UP 

A  COURTSHIP A  HARROWING  SCENE. 

Although  my  old  master — Capt.  Anthony — gave 
me  at  first,  (as  tlie  reader  will  have  already  seen,)  very 
little  attention,  and  although  that  little  was  of  a  re- 
markably mild  and  gentle  description,  a  few"  months 
only  were  sufficient  to  convince  me  that  mildness 
and  gentleness  were  not  the  prevailing  or  govern- 
ing traits  of  his  character.  These  excellent  qual- 
ities were  displayed  only  occasionally.  He  could, 
when  it  suited  him,  appear  to  be  literally  insensible 
to  the  claims  of  humanity,  when  appea^led  to  by  the 
helpless  against  an  aggressor,  and  he  could  himself 
commit  outrages,  deep,  dark  and  nameless.  Yet  he^' 
was  not  by  nature  worse  than  other  men.  Had  he 
been  brought  up  in  a  free  state,  surrounded  by  the 
just  restraints  of  free  society — restraints  w^hich  are 
necessary  to  the  freedom  of  all  its  members,  alike 
and  equally — Capt.  Anthony  might  have  been  as  hu-^ 


?■ 

so  LIFE  AS  A  SLA^-E. 

'"mane  a  man,  and  every  way  as  respectable,  as  many 
who  now  oppose  the  shwe  system ;  certainly  as  hu- 
mane and  respectable  as  are  members  of  society  gen- 
erally. The  slaveholder,  as  well  as  the  slave,  is  the 
victim  of  the  slave  system.  A  man's  character  greatly 
takes  its  line  and  shape  from  the  form  and  color 
of  things  about  him.  Under  the  whole  heavens 
there  is  no  relation  more  unfavorable  to  the  devel- 
opment of  honorable  character,  than  that  sustained 
by  the  slaveholder  to  the  slave,  lieason  is  im]3ris- 
,oned  here,  and  passions  run  wild.  Like  the  fires  of 
the  prairie,  once  lighted,  they  are  at  the  mercy  of 
every  wind,  and  must  burn,  till  they  have  consumed 
all  that  is  combustible  within  their  remorseless  grasp. 
Capt.  Anthony  could  be  kind,  and,  at  times,  he  even 
showed  an  affectionate  disposition.  Could  the  reader 
have  seen  him  gently  leading  me  by  the  hand — as  he 
sometimes  did — patting  me  on  the  head,  speaking  to 
me  in  soft,  caressing  tones  and  calling  me  his  "  little 
Indian  boy,"  he  would  have  deemed  him  a  kind  old 
man,  and,  really,  almost  fatherly.  But  the  pleasant 
moods  of  a  slaveholder  are  remarkably  brittle  ;  they 
are  easily  snapped ;  they  neither  come  often,  nor  re- 
main long.  His  temper  is  subjected  to  perpetual 
trials;  but,  since  these  trials  are  never  borne  pa- 
tiently, they  add  nothing  to  his  natural  stock  of 
patience. 

Old  master  very  early  impressed  me  with  the  idea 
that  he  was  an  unhappy  man.  Even  to  my  child's  eye, 
he  wore  a  troubled,  and  at  times,  a  haggard  aspect. 
His  strange  movements  excited  my  curiosity,  and 
awakened  my  compassion.     He  seldom  walked  alone 


BITPPOSED   OBTUSENESS  OF  SLAVE-CHILDKElSr.  81 

without  muttering  to  himself;  and  he  occasionally 
Btormed  about,  as  if  defying  an  army  of  invisible  foes. 
*'  He  would  do  this,  that,  and  the  other  ;  he'd  be  d — d 
if  he  did  not," — was  the  usual  form  of  his  threats. 
Most  of  his  leisure  was  spent  in  walking,  cursing  and 
gesticulating,  like  one  possessed  by  a  demon.  Most 
evident!}^,  he  was  a  wTctched  man,  at  war  with  his 
own  soul,  and  with  all  the  world  around  him.  To  be 
overheard  by  the  children,  disturbed  him  very  little. 
He  made  no  more  of  owr  presence,  than  of  that  of  the 
ducks  and  geese  which  he  met  on  the  green.  He  little 
thought  that  the  little  black  urchins  around  him,  could 
see,  through  those  vocal  crevices,  the  very  secrets  of 
his  heart.  Slaveholders  ever  underrate  the  intelligence 
with  which  they  have  to  grapple.  I  really  under- 
stood the  old  man's  mutterings,  attitudes  and  gestures, 
about  as  well  as  he  did  himself.  But  slaveholders 
never  encourage  that  kind  of  communication,  with 
the  slaves,  by  which  they  might  learn  to  measure  the 
depths  of  his  knovvdedge.  Ignorance  is  a  high  virtue  / 
in  a  human  chattel ;  and  as  the  master  studies  to  keep  "\ 
the  slave  ignorant,  the  slave  is  cunning  enough  to^: 
make  the  master  think  he  succeeds.  The  slave  fully 
appreciates  the  saying,  "  where  ignorance  is  bliss, 
'tis  folly  to  be  wise."  AVhen  old  master's  gestures 
were  violent,  ending  with  a  threatening  shake  of  the 
head,  and  a  sharp  snap  of  his  middle  finger  and  thumb, 
I  deemed  it  wise  to  keep  at  a  respectable  distance 
from  him;  for,  at  such  times,  trifling  faults  stood,  in 
his  eyes,  as  momentous  ofifenses ;  and,  having  both 
the  power  and  the  disposition,  the  victim  had  only  to 
D*  6 


82  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

be  near  him  to  catch  the  prinishinent,  deserved  or  nn- 

de!=?erved. 

One  of  the  first  cirenrastances  that  opened  mj  eyes 

to  th'j  cruelty  and  wickedness  of  slavery,  and  the 
heartlessness  of  my  old  master,  was  the  refusal  of  the 
latter  to  interpose  his  authority,  to  protect  and  shield 
a  young  woman,  v/lio  had  been  most  cruelly  abused 
and  beaten  by  his  overseer  in  Tuckahoe.  This  over- 
seer — a  ^Ii'.  Plummer — was  a  man  like  most  of  his 
class,  little  better  than  a  liuman  brute ;  and,  in  ad- 
dition to  his  general  profligacy  and  repulsive  coarse- 
ness, the  creature  was  a  miserable  drunkard.  He 
was,  probably,  employed  by  my  old  master,  less  on 
account  of  the  excellence  of  liis  services,  than  for  the 
cheap  rate  at  which  they  could  be  obtained.  He  was 
not  fit  to  have  the  manaocement  of  a  drove  of  mules. 
In  a  fit  of  drunken  madness,  he  committed  tlie  ont- 
r^ige  which  brought  the  young  woman  in  question 
down  to  my  old  master's  for  protection.  This  young 
woman  was  the  daughter  of  Milly,  an  own  aunt  of 
mine.  The  poor  girl,  on  arriving  at  our  house,  pre- 
sented a  pitiable  appearance.  She  had  left  in  haste, 
and  without  preparation  ;  and,  probably,  without  tlie 
knowledije  of  Mr.  Plummer.  She  had  traveled 
twelve  miles,  bare-footed,  bare-necked  and  bare- 
headed. Her  neck  and  shoulders  were  covered  with 
scars,  newly  made  ;  and,  not  content  with  marring  her 
neck  and  shoulders,  with  the  cowhide,  the  cowardly 
brute  had  dealt  her  a  blow  on  the  head  with  a  hickory 
club,  which  cut  a  horrible  gash,  and  left  her  face  liter- 
ally covered  with  blood.  In  this  condition,  the  poor 
young  woman  came   down,  to  implore  protection  at 


slaveholders'  bipatiekce.  83 

the  hands  of  my  old  master.  I  expected  to  see  him 
boil  over  with  rage  at  the  revolting  deed,  and  to  hear 
him  fill  the  air  with  curses  upon  the  brutal  Plummer ; 
but  I  was  disappointed.  He  sternly  told  her,  in  an 
angry  tone,  he  "  believed  she  deserved  every  bit  of 
it,"  and,  if  she  did  not  go  home  instantly,  he  would 
himself  take  the  remaining  skin  from  her  neck  and 
back.  Thus  was  the  poor  girl  compelled  to  return, 
without  redress,  and  perhaps  to  receive  an  additional 
flogging  for  daring  to  appeal  to  old  master  against  the 
overseer. 

Old  master  seemed  furious  at  the  thought  of  being 
troubled  by  such  complaints.  I  did  not,  at  that  time, 
understand  the  philosophy  of  his  treatment  of  my 
cousin.  It  was  stern,  unnatural,  violent.  Had  the 
man  no  bowels  of  compassion  ?  Was  he  dead  to  all 
sense  of  humanity  ?  'No.  I  think  I  now  understand 
it.  This  treatment  is  a  part  of  the  system,  rather  than 
a  part  of  the  man.  Were  slaveholders  to  listen  to 
complaints  of  this  sort  against  the  overseers,  the  luxury 
of  owning  large  numbers  of  slaves,  would  be  impossi- 
ble. It  would  do  away  with  the  office  of  overseer, 
entirely ;  or,  in  other  words,  it  would  convert  the 
master  himself  into  an  overseer.  It  would  occasion 
great  loss  of  time  and  labor,  leaving  the  overseer  in 
fetters,  and  without  the  necessary  power  to  secure 
obedience  to  his  orders.  A  privilege  so  dangerous  as 
that  of  appeal,  is,  therefore,  strictly  prohibited ;  and 
any  one  exercising  it,  runs  a  fearful  hazard.  Never- ^ 
theless,  when  a  slave  has  nerve  enough  to  exercise  it, 
and  boldly  approaches  his  m^aster,  with  a  well-founded 


84:  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

complaint  against  an  overseer,  though  he  may  be  re- 
pulsed, and  may  even  have  that  of  which  lie  com- 
plains repeated  at  the  time,  and,  though  he  may  be 
beaten  by  his  master,  as  well'  as  by  the  overseer,  for 
his  temerity,  in  the  end  the  policy  of  complaining  is, 
generally,  vindicated  by  the  relaxed  rigor  of  the 
overseer's  treatment.  The  latter  becomes  more  care 
ful,  and  less  disposed  to  use  the  lash  upon  such  slaves 
thereafter.  It  is  with  this  final  result  in  view,  rather 
than  with  any  expectation  of  immediate  good,  that 
the  outraged  slave  is  induced  to  meet  his  master  with 
a  complaint.  The  overseer  very  naturally  dislikes  to 
have  the  ear  of  the  master  disturbed  by  complaints ; 
and,  either  upon  this  consideration,  or  upon  advice 
and  warning  privately  given  him  by  his  employers, 
he  generally  modifies  the  rigor  of  his  rule,  after  an 
outbreak  of  the  kind  to  which  I  have  been  referrino^. 
Howsoever  the  slaveholder  may  allow  himself  to 
act  toward  his  slave,  and,  whatever  cruelty  he  may 
deem  it  wise,  for  example's  sake,  or  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  his  humor,  to  inflict,  he  cannot,  in  the  absence 
of  all  provocation,  look  with  pleasure  upon  the  bleed- 
ins^  wounds  of  a  defenseless  slave-woman.  When  he 
drives  her  from  his  presence  without  redress,  or  the 
hope  of  redress,  he  acts,  generally,  from  motives  of 
policy,  rather  than  from  a  hardened  nature,  or  from 
innate  brutality.  Yet,  let  but  his  own  temper  be  stirred, 
his  own  passions  get  loose,  and  the  slave-owner  will 
go  far  heyond  the  overseer  in  cruelty.  He  will  con- 
vince the  slave  that  his  wrath  is  far  more  terrible  and 
boundless,  and  vastly  more  to  be  dreaded,  than  that 
of  the  underling   overseer.     What  may  have   beea 


) 


ATTEMPT   TO   BREAX   UP  A  OOUETSHIP.  85 

mechanically  and  heartlessly  done  by  the  overseer,  is 
now  done  with  a  will.  The  man  who  now  wields  the 
lash  is  irresponsible.  He  may,  if  he  pleases,  cripple  ^ 
or  kill,  without  fear  of  consequences  ;  except  in  so  far' 
as  it  may  concern  profit  or  loss.  To  a  man  of  violent 
temper — as  my  old  master  was — this  was  but  a  very 
slender  and  inefficient  restraint.  I  have  seen  him  in 
a  tempest  of  passion,  such  as  I  have  just  described — 
a  passion  into  which  entered  all  the  bitter  ingredients 
of  pride,  hatred,  envy,  jealousy,  and  the  thirst  for 
revenge. 

The  circumstances  which  I  am  about  to  narrate, 
and  which  gave  rise  to  this  fearful  tempest  of  passion, 
are  not  singular  nor  isolated  in  slave  life,  but  are 
common  in  every  slaveholding  community  in  which  I 
have  lived.  They  are  incidental  to  the  relation  of 
master  and  slave,  and  exist  in  all  sections  of  slave- 
holding  countries. 

The  reader  will  have  noticed  that,  in  enumerating 
the  names  of  the  slaves  who  lived  with  my  old  mas- 
ter, Esther  is  mentioned.  This  was  a  young  woman 
who  possessed  that  which  is  ever  a  curse  to  the  slave- 
girl;  namely, — personal  beauty.  She  was  tall,  well 
formed,  and  made  a  fine  appearance.  The  daughters 
of  Col.  Lloyd  could  scarcely  surpass  her  in  personal 
charms.  Esther  was  courted  by  Ned  Roberts,  and  he 
was  as  fine  looking  a  young  man,  as  she  was  a  woman. 
Tie  was  the  son  of  a  favorite  slave  of  Col.  Lloyd. 
Some  slaveholders  would  have  been  glad  to  promote 
the  marriage  of  two  such  persons  ;  but,  for  some  rea- 
son or  other,  my  old  master  took  it  upon  him  to  break 
up  the  growing  intimacy  between  Esther  and  Edward. 


86  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

He  strictly  ordered  her  to  quit  the  company  of  said 
Roberts,  telling  her  that  he  would  punish  her  severely 
if  he  ever  found  her  again  in  Edward's  company. 
This  unnatural  and  heartless  order  was,  of  course, 
broken.  A  woman's  love  is  not  to  be  annihilated  by 
the  peremptory  command  of  any  one,  whose  breath 
is  in  his  nostrils.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  Edward 
and  Esther  apart.  Meet  they  would,  and  meet  they 
did.  Had  old  master  been  a  man  of  honor  and  purity, 
his  motives,  in  this  matter,  might  have  been  viewed 
more  favorably.  As  it  was,  his  motives  were  as  ab- 
horrent, as  his  methods  were  foolish  and  contemptible. 
It  was  too  evident  that  he  was  not  concerned  for  the 

arirl's  welfare.     It  is  one  of  the  damnino-  characteristics 
/  ..... 

y  of  the  slave  system,  that  it  robs  its  victims  of  every 

earthly  incentive  to  a  holy  life.  The  fear  of  God,  and 
the  hope  of  heaven,  are  found  sufficient  to  sustain 
many  slave-women,  amidst  the  snares  and  dangers  of 
their  strange  lot ;  but,  this  side  of  God  and  heaven,  a 
slave-woman  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  power,  caprice 
and  passion  of  her  owner.  Slavery  provides  no  means 
for  the  honorable  continuance  of  the  race.  Marriage 
— as  imposing  obligations  on  the  parties  to  it — has  no 
existence  here,  except  in  such  hearts  as  are  purer  and 
higher  than  the  standard  morality  around  them.  It 
is  one  of  the  consolations  of  my  life,  that  I  know  of 
many  honorable  instances  of  persons  who  maintained 
their  honor,  where  all  around  was  corrupt. 
^  Esther  was  evidently  much  attached  to  Edward, 
and  abhorred — as  she  had  reason  to  do — the  tyranni- 
cal and  base  behavior  of  old  master.  Edward  was 
young,  and  fine  looking,  and  he  loved  and  courted 


A  HAKEOWING  SOENE.  3^ 

her.  He  miglit  have  been  her  husbandj  in  the  higli 
sense  just  alluded  to  ;  but  wiio  and  vjhai  was  this  old 
master  ?  His  attentions  were  plainly  brutal  and  sel- 
fish, and  it  was  as  natural  that  Esther  should  loathe 
him,  as  that  she  should  love  Edward.  Abhorred  and 
circumvented  as  he  v>^as,  old  master,  having  the  power, 
very  easily  took  revenge.  I  happened  to  see  this  ex- 
hibition of  his  rage  and  cruelty  tow^ard  Esther.  The 
time  selected  was  singular.  It  was  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  all  besides  was  still,  and  before  any  of  the 
family,  in  the  house  or  kitchen,  had  left  their  beds.  I 
saw  but  few  of  the  shocking  preliminaries,  for  the 
cruel  w^ork  had  begun  before  I  awoke.  I  was  proba- 
bly aw^akened  by  the  shrieks  and  piteous  cries  of  poor 
Esther.  My  sleeping  place  was  on  the  floor  of  a  little, 
rough  closet,  which  opened  into  the  kitchen ;  and 
through  the  cracks  of  its  unplaned  boards,  I  could 
dictinctly  see  and  hear  what  was  going  on,  without 
being  seen  by  old  master.  Esther's  wrists  were  firmly 
tied,  and  the  twisted  rope  was  fastened  to  a  strong 
staple  in  a  heavy  wooden  joist  above,  near  the  fire- 
place. Here  she  stood,  on  a  bench,  her  arms  tightly 
drawn  over  her  breast.  Her  back  and  shoulders  were 
bare  to  the  waist.  Behind  her  stood  old  master,  with 
cowskin  in  hand,  preparing  his  barbarous  w^ork  with 
all  manner  of  harsh,  coarse,  and  tantalizing  epithets. 
The  screams  of  his  victim  were  most  piercing.  He 
w^as  cruelly  deliberate,  and  protracted  the  torture,  as 
one  w4io  was  delighted  v»'ith  the  scene.  Again  and 
ao-ain  lie  drew  the  hateful  whip  tlirouo-h  his  hand, 
adjusting  it  with  a  view  of  dealing  the  most  pain- 
giving   blow.     Poor  Esther   had  never  yet  been  se- 


88  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

verelj  whipped,  and  her  shoulders  were  plump  and 
tender.  Each  blow,  vigorously  laid  on,  brought 
screams  as  well  as  blood.  '''-Have  mercy  ;  Oh!  have 
rnercif'^  she  cried  ;  "  I  wonH  do  so  no  w.ore  f  but  her 
piercing  cries  seemed  only  to  increase  his  fury.  His 
answers  to  them  are  too  coarse  and  blasphemous  to 
be  produced  here.  The  whole  scene,  witli  all  its 
attendants,  was  revolting  and  shocking,  to  the  last 
degree  ;  and  when  the  motives  of  this  brutal  castiga- 
tion  are  considered,  language  has  no  power  to  convey 
a  just  sense  of  its  awful  criminality.  After  laying  on 
some  thirty  or  forty  stripes,  old  master  untied  his 
suffering  victim,  and  let  her  get  down.  She  could 
scarcely  stand,  when  untied.  From  my  heart  I  pitied 
her,  and — child  though  I  was — the  outrage  kindled 
in  me  a  feeling  far  from  peaceful ;  but  I  was  hushed, 
terrified,  stunned,  and  could  do  nothing,  and  the  fate 
of  Esther  miij;ht  be  mine  next.  The  scene  here  de- 
scribed  was  often  repeated  in  the  case  of  poor  Esther, 
and  her  life,  as  I  knew  it,  was  one  of  wretchedness. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

TREATMENT  OF  SLAVES  ON  LLOYD'S  PLANTATION. 

THE   author's    early  REFLECTIONS    ON    SLAVERY PRESENTIMENT     OF     ONE 

DAY    BEING   A    FREEMAN COMBAT  BETWEEN    AN   OVERSEER  AND  A  SLAVE- 
WOMAN THE     ADVANTAGES     OF    RESISTANCE ALLOWANCE    DAY    ON    TBE 

HOME     PLANTATION THE    SINGING    OF    SLAVES AN    EXPLANATION THE 

slaves'  FOOD    AND    CLOTHING NAKED    CHILDREN LIFE   IN  THE  QUARTER 

DEPRIVATION    OF    SLEEP NURSING    CHILDREN  CARRIED  TO  THE  FIELD 

DESCRIPTION    OF     THE    COWSKIN THE     ASH-CAKE MANNER     OF    MAKING 

IT THE   DINNER   HOUR THE  CONTRAST. 

The  lieart-reuding  incidents,  related  in  tlie  forego- 
ing chapter,  led  me,  thus  early,  to  inquire  into  the  na- 
ture and  history  of  slavery.  Why  am>  I  a  slave  ?  Why 
are  some  jpeople  slaves,  a7id  others  masters?  Was 
there  ever  a  time  when  this  loas  not  so  f  IIoio  did 
the  ^'elation  commence  f  These  were  the  perplexing 
questions  which  began  now  to  claim  my  thoughts, 
and  to  exercise  the  weak  powers  of  my  mind,  for  I 
was  still  but  a  child,  and  knew  less  than  children  of 
the  same  age  in  the  free  states.  As  my  questions 
concerning  these  things  were  only  put  to  children  a 
little  older,  and  little  better  informed  than  myself, 
I  was  not  rapid  in  reaching  a  solid  footing.  By  some 
means  I  learned  from  these  inquiries,  that  *'  God,  up 
in  the  sT^y^''  made  every  body ;  and  that  he  made 
white  people  to  be  masters  and  mistresses,  and  hlacTc 
people  to  be  slaves.  This  did  not  satisfy  me,  nor 
lessen  my  interest  in  the  subject,     I  was  told,  too, 


90  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

that  God  was  good,  and  that  He  knew  what  was  best 
for  me,  and  best  for  everybody.  This  was  less  satis- 
factory than  the  first  statement ;  because  it  came, 
point  blank,  against  all  my  notions  of  goodness.  .  It 
was  not  good  to  let  old  master  cut  the  ilesh  off  Esther, 
and  make  her  cry  so.  Besides,  how  did  people  know 
that  God  made  black  people  to  be  slaves?  Did  they 
go  lip  in  the  sky  and  learn  it  ?  or,  did  He  come  down 
and  tell  them  so?  All  was  dark  here.  It  was  some 
relief  to  my  hard  notions  of  the  goodness  of  God,  that, 
althono;!!  he  made  white  men  to  be  slaveholders,  he 
did  not  make  them  to  be  had  slaveholders,  and  that, 
in  due  time,  he  would  punish  the  bad  slaveholders  ; 
that  he  would,  when  they  died,  send  them  to  the  bad 
place,  where  they  would  be  "burnt up."  Neverthe- 
less, I  could  not  reconcile  the  relation  of  slavery  with 
ni}^  crude  notions  of  goodness. 

Then,  too,  I  found  that  there  were  puzzling  excep- 
tions to  this  theory  of  slavery  on  both  sides,  and  in 
the  middle.  I  knew  of  blacks  wlio  were  not  slaves  ; 
I  knew  of  whites  who  were  7iot  slaveholders;  anl  I 
knew  of  persons  who  were  nearly  white,  who  were 
slaves.  Color^  therefore,  was  a  very  unsatisfactory 
basis  for  slavery. 

Once,  however,  engaged  in  the  inquiry,  I  was  not 
very  long  in  finding  out  the  true  solution  of  the  mat- 
ter. It  was  not  Golo)\  but  crime ^  not  God^  but  man^ 
that  afforded  the  true  explanation  of  the  existence  of 
slavery ;  nor  was  I  long  in  finding  out  another  im- 
portant truth,  viz  :  what  man  can  make,  man  can  un- 
make. The  appalling  darkness  faded  away,  and  I 
was  master  of  tlie  subject.     There  were  slaves  here, 


attthoe's  early  reflections  on  slavery.         91 

direct  from  Guinea ;  and  tliere  were  many  wlio  could 
say  that  their  fathers  and  mothers  were  stolen  from 
Africa — forced  from  their  homes,  and  compelled  to 
serve  as  slaves.  This,  to  me,  was  knowledge  ;  but  it 
was  a  kind  of  knowled<2:e  which  filled  me  with  a  burn- 
ing  hatred  of  slavery,  increased  my  suffering,  and  left 
me  without  the  means  of  breaking  aw^ay  from  my 
bondage.  Yet  it  was  knowledge  quite  w^orth  possess- 
ing. I  could  not  have  been  more  than  seven  or  eight 
years  old,  when  I  began  to  make  this  subject  my  study. 
It  was  with  me  in  the  woods  and  fields  ;  along  the 
shore  of  the  river,  and  wherever  my  boyish  wander- 
ings led  me ;  and  though  I  was,  at  that  time,  quite 
ignorant  of  the  existence  of  the  free  states,  I  distinctly 
remember  being,  eve^i  then,  most  strongly  impressed 
with  the  idea  of  being  a  freeman  some  day.  This 
cheering  assurance  was  an  inborn  dream  of  my  human 
nature — a  consta.it  menace  to  slavery — and  one  which 
all  the  powers  c-  slavery  were  unable  to  silence  or 
extinguish. 

Up  to  the  time  of  the  brutal  flogging  of  my  Aunt 
Esther — for  she  was  my  own  aunt — and  the  horrid 
plight  in  which  I  had  seen  my  cousin  from  Tuckahoe, 
who  had  been  so  badly  beaten  by  the  cruel  Mr.  Plum- 
mer,  my  attention  had  not  been  called,  especially,  to 
the  gross  features  of  slavery.  I  had,  of  course,  heard 
of  whippings,  and  of  savage  Tencontres  between  over- 
seers and  slaves,  but  I  had  always  been  out  of  the 
way  at  the  times  and  places  of  their  occurrence.  My 
plays  and  sports,  most  of  the  time,  took  me  from  the 
corn  and  tobacco  fields,  where  the  great  body  of  the 
hands  were  at  work,  and  where  scenes  of  cruelty  were 


^ 


92  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

enacted  and  witnessed.  But,  after  the  whipping  of 
Aunt  Esriier,  I  saw  many  cases  of  the  same  shocking 
nature,  not  only  in  my  master's  house,  but  on  CoL 
Lloyd's  plantation.  One  of  the  first  which  I  saw,  and 
wliich  greatly  agitated  me,  was  the  whipping  of  a 
woman  belonging  to  Col.  Lloyd,  named  Nelly.  The 
ofi'ense  alleged  against  Nelly,  w\is  one  of  the  com- 
monest and  most  indefinite  in  the  whole  catalogue 
of  oflenses  usually  laid  to  the  charge  of  slaves,  viz  ; 
"  impudence."  This  may  mean  almost  anything,  or 
nothing  at  all,  just  according  to  the  caprice  of  the 
master  or  overseer,  at  the  moment.  But,  whatever 
it  is,  or  is  not,  if  it  gets  the  name  of  "impudence,"  the 
party  charged  with  it  is  sure  of  a  flogging.  This  of- 
fense may  be  committed  in  various  ways ;  in  the  tone 
of  an  answer ;  in  answering  at  all ;  in  not  answering ; 
in  the  expression  of  countenance ;  in  the  motion  of 
the  head  ;  in  the  gait,  manner  and  bearing  of  the 
slave.  In  the  case  under  consideration,  I  can  easilv 
believe  that,  according  to  all  slaveholding  standards, 
here  was  a  genuine  instance  of  impudence.  In  Nelly 
there  were  all  the  necessary  conditions  for  committing 
the  ofi'ense.  She  was  a  bright  mulatto,  the  recognized 
wife  of  a  favorite  "  hand"  on  board  Col.  Lloyd's  sloop, 
and  the  mother  of  five  sprightly  children.  She  was 
a  vigorous  and  spirited  woman,  and  one  of  the  most 
likely,  on  the  plantation,  to  be  guilty  of  impudence. 
My  attention  w^as  called  to  the  scene,  by  the  noise, 
curses  and  screams  that  proceeded  from  it ;  and,  on 
going  a  little  in  that  direction,  I  came  upon  the  parties 
engaged  in  the  skirmish.  Mr.  Sevier,  the  overseer, 
had  hold  of  Nelly,  when  I  caught  sight  of  them ;  ho 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MR.  SEVIER  AND   NELLY.  93 

was  endeavoring  to  drag  her  toward  a  tree,  which 
endeavor  Nelly  was  sternly  resisting ;  but  to  no  pur- 
pose, except  to  retard  the  progress  of  the  overseer's 
plans.  Nelly — as  I  have  said — was  the  mother  of 
five  children ;  three  of  them  were  present,  and  though 
quite  small,  (from  seven  to  ten  years  old,  I  should 
think,)  they  gallantly  came  to  their  mother's  defense, 
and  gave  the  overseer  an  excellent  pelting  with  stones. 
One  of  the  little  fellows  ran  up,  seized  the  overseer 
by  the  leg  and  bit  him ;  but  the  monster  was  too  busily 
engaged  with  Nelly,  to  pay  any  attention  to  the  as- 
saults of  the  children.  There  wxre  numerous  bloody 
marks  on  Mr.  Sevier's  face,  when  I  first  saw  him,  and 
they  increased  as  the  struggle  w^ent  on.  The  imprints 
of  Nelly's  fingers  were  visible,  and  I  was  glad  to  see 
them.  Amidst  the  wild  screams  of  the  children — 
*'  Let  my  mammy  gd^ — ''  let  my  mammy  go'- — there 
escaped,  from  between  the  teeth  of  the  bullet-headed 
overseer,  a  few  bitter  curses,  mingled  with  threats, 
that "  he  would  teach  the  d— d  b— h  how  to  give  a  white 
man  impudence."  There  is  no  doubt  that  Nelly  felt 
herself  superior,  in  some  respects,  to  the  slaves  around 
her.  She  was  a  wife  and  a  mother  ;  her  husband  was 
a  valued  and  favorite  slave.  Besides,  he  was  one  of 
the  first  hands  on  board  of  the  sloop,  and  the  sloop 
hands — since  they  had  to  represent  the  plantation 
abroad — were  generally  treated  tenderly.  The  over- 
seer never  was  allowed  to  whip  Harry ;  why  then 
should  he  be  allowed  to  whip  Harry's  wife?  Thoughts 
of  this  kind,  no  doubt,  influenced  her ;  but,  for  what 
ever  reason,  she  nobly  resisted,  and,  unlike  most  of 
the  slaves,  seemed  determined  to  make  her  whipping 


94  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

cost  Mr.  Sevier  as  mucli  as  possible.  The  blood  on 
his  (and  her)  face,  attested  her  skill,  as  well  as  her 
courage  and  dexterity  in  using  her  nails.  Maddened 
by  her  resistance,  I  expected  to  see  Mr.  Sevier  level 
her  to  the  ground  by  a  stunning  blow ;  but  no  ;  like 
a  savage  bull-dog — which  he  resembled  both  in  tem- 
per and  appearance — he  maintained  his  grip,  and 
steadily  dragged  his  victim  toward  the  tree,  disre- 
garding alike  her  blows,  and  the  cries  of  the  children 
for  their  mother's  release.  He  would,  doubtless,  have 
knocked  her  down  with  his  hickory  stick,  but  that 
such  act  might  have  cost  him  his  place.  It  is  often 
deemed  advisable  to  knock  a  7)ian  slave  down,  in 
order  to  tie  him,  but  it  is  considered  cowardly  and  in- 
excusable, in  an  overseer,  thus  to  deal  with  a  woman. 
He  is  expected  to  tie  her  up,  and  to  give  her  what  is 
called,  in  southern  parlance,  a  "genteel  flogging," 
without  any  very  great  outlay  of  strength  or  skill.  I 
watched,  with  palpitating  interest,  the  course  of  the 
preliminary  struggle,  and  was  saddened  by  every  new 
advantage  gained  over  her  by  the  ruffian.  There  were 
times  when  she  seemed  likely  to  get  the  better  of  the 
brute,  but  he  finally  overpowered  her,  and  succeeded 
in  getting  his  rope  around  her  arms,  and  in  firmly  ty- 
ing her  to  the  tree,  at  which  he  had  been  aiming.  This 
done,  and  Nelly  was  at  the  mercy  of  his  merciless 
lash  ;  and  now,  what  followed,  I  have  no  heart  to  de- 
scribe. The  cowardly  creature  made  good  his  every 
threat ;  and  wielded  the  lash  with  all  the  hot  zest  of 
furious  revenge.  The  cries  of  the  woman,  while  un- 
dergoing the  terrible  infliction,  were  mingled  with 
those  of  the  children,  sounds  which  I  hope  the  reader 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  RESISTANCE.  95 

may  never  be  called  upon  to  hear.  "Wlien  >Telly  was 
untied,  her  back  was,  covered  with  blood.  The  red 
stripes  were  all  over  her  shoulders.  She  was  whip- 
ped— severely  whipped  ;  bnt  she  was  not  subdued, 
for  she  continued  to  denounce  the  overseer,  and  to 
call  him  every  vile  name.  lie  had  bruised  her  flesh, 
but  had  left  her  invincible  spirit  undaunted.  Such 
floggings  are  seldom  repeated  by  the  same  overseer. 
They  prefer  to  whip  those  who  are  most  easily  whip- 
ped. The  old  doctrine  that  submission  is  the  besf 
cure  for  outrage  and  wrong,  does  not  hold  good  on  the 
slave  plantation.  He  is  whipped  oftenest,  who  is/ 
whipped  easiest ;  and  that  slave  who  has  the  courage  J 
to  stand  up  for  himself  against  the  overseer,  although 
he  may  have  many  hard  stripes  at  the  first,  becomes, 
in  the  end,  a  freeman,  even  though  he  sustain  the  for- 
mal relation  of  a  slave.  "You  can  shoot  me  but  youj 
can't  whip  me,"  said  a  slave  to  Rigby  Hopkins  ;  and 
the  result  was  that  he  was  neither  whipped  not  shot. 
If  the  latter  had  been  his  fate,  it  would  have  been  less 
deplorable  than  the  living  and  lingering  death  to 
which  cowardly  and  slavish  souls  are  subjected.  I  do 
not  know  that  Mr.  Sevier  ever  undertook  to  whip 
Nelly  again.  He  probably  never  did,  for  it  was  not 
long  after  his  attempt  to  subdue  her,  that  he  was  taken 
sick,  and  died.  The  wretched  man  died  as  he  had 
lived,  unrepentant ;  and  it  was  said — v/ith  how  much 
truth  I  know  not — that  in  the  very  last  hours  of  his 
life,  his  ruling  passion  showed  itself,  and  that  when 
wrestling  with  death,  he  was  uttering  horrid  oaths, 
and  flourishing  the  cowskin,  as  though  he  was  tearing 
the  flesh  off  some  helpless  slave.     One  thing  is  cer- 


96  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

tain,  that  when  he  was  in  health,  it  was  enough  to 
chill  the  blood,  and  to  stiffen  the  hair  of  an  ordinary- 
man,  to  hear  Mr.  Sevier  talk.  Nature,  or  his  cruel 
habits,  had  given  to  his  face  an  expression  of  unusual 
savageness,  even  for  a  slave-driver.  Tobacco  and 
rage  had  worn  his  teeth  short,  and  nearly  every  sen- 
tence that  escaped  their  compressed  grating,  was  com- 
menced or  concluded  with  some  outburst  of  profanity. 
His  presence  made  the  field  alike  the  field  of  blood, 
and  of  blasphemy.  Hated  for  his  cruelty,  despised 
for  his  cowardice,  his  death  was  deplored  by  no  one 
outside  his  own  house — if  indeed  it  was  deplored 
there ;  it  was  regarded  by  the  slaves  as  a  merciful 
interposition  of  Providence,  l^ever  went  there  a  man 
to  the  grave  loaded  with  heavier  curses.  Mr.  Sevier's 
place  was  promptly  taken  by  a  Mr.  Ho]3kins,  and  the 
change  was  quite  a  relief,  he  being  a  very  different 
man.  He  was,  in  all  respects,  a  better  man  than  his 
predecessor ;  as  good  as  any  man  can  be,  and  yet  be 
an  overseer.  His  course  was  characterized  by  no  ex- 
traordinary cruelty  ;  and  when  he  whipped  a  slave, 
as  he  sometimes  did,  he  seemed  to  take  no  especial 
pleasure  in  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  acted  as  though 
he  felt  it  to  be  a  mean  business.  Mr.  Hopkins  stayed 
but  a  short  time ;  his  place — much  to  the  regret  of 
the  slaves  generally — was  taken  by  a  Mr.  Gore,  of 
whom  more  will  be  said  hereafter.  It  is  enough,  for  the 
present,  to  say,  that  he  was  no  improvement  on  Mr. 
Sevier,  except  that  he  was  less  noisy  and  less  profane. 
I  have  already  referred  to  the  business-like  aspect 
of  Col.  Lloyd's  j)lantation.  This  business-like  appear- 
ance was  much  increased  on  the  two  davs  at  the  end 


ALLOWANCE  DAY  ON  THE  HOME  PLANTATION.  97 

of  each  month,  when  the  slaves  from  the  different 
farms  came  to  get  their  monthly  allowance  of  meal 
and  meat.  These  were  gala  days  for  the  slaves,  and 
there  w^as  much  rivalry  among  them  as  to  %o]io  should 
be  elected  to  go  up  to  the  great  house  farm  for  the  al- 
lowance, and,  indeed,  to  attend  to  any  business  at 
this,  (for  them,)  the  capital.  The  beauty  and  gran- 
deur of  the  place,  its  numerous  slave  population,  and 
the  fact  that  Harry,  Peter  and  Jake — the  sailors  of 
the  sloop — almost  always  kept,  privately,  little  trink- 
ets which  they  bought  at  Baltimore,  to  sell,  made  it 
a  privilege  to  come  to  the  great  house  farm.  Being 
selected,  too,  for  this  office,  was  deemed  a  high  honor. 
It  was  taken  as  a  proof  of  confidence  and  favor;  but, 
probably,  the  chief  motive  of  the  competitors  for  the 
place,  was,  a  desire  to  break  the  dull  monotony  of  the 
field,  and  to  get  beyond  the  overseer's  eye  and  lash. 
Once  on  the  road  with  an  ox  team,  and  seated  on 
the  tongue  of  his  cart,  with  no  overseer  to  look  after 
him,  the  slave  was  comparatively  free ;  and,  if  thought- 
ful, he  had  time  to  think.  Slaves  are  generally  ex- 
jDected  to  sing  as  well  as  to  work.  A  silent  slave  is 
not  liked  by  masters  or  overseers.  ''^  Make  a  noise^'^ 
''^ make  a  noise^''  and  '•'hear  a  hand,^^  are  the  words 
usually  addressed  to  the  slaves  when  there  is  silence 
amongst  them.  This  may  account  for  the  almost  con- 
stant singing  heard  in  the  southern  states.  There 
was,  generally,  more  or  less  singing  among  the  team- 
sters, as  it  was  one  means  of  letting  the  overseer 
know  where  they  were,  and  that  they  were  moving 
on  with  the  work.  But,  on  allowance  day,  those  who 
visited  the  great  house  farm  were  peculiarly  excited 
E  T 


98  LIFE    AS    A  SLAVE. 

and  noisj.  While  on  tlieir  way,  tliey  would  make 
the  dense  old  woods,  for  miles  around,  reverberate 
with  their  wild  notes.  These  were  not  always  merry 
because  they  were  wild.  On  the  contrar}^,  they  were 
mostly  of  a  plaintive  cast,  and  told  a  tale  of  grief 
and  sorrow.  In  the  most  boisterous  outbursts  of  rap- 
turous sentiment,  there  was  ever  a  tinge  of  deep  mel- 
ancholy. I  have  never  heard  any  songs  like  those 
any  vv^here  since  I  left  slavery,  except  when  in  Ireland. 
There  I  heard  the  same  wailing  notes^  and  was  much 
affected  by  them.  It  was  during  the  famine  of  1845-6. 
In  all  the  songs  of  the  slaves,  there  was  ever  some 
expression  in  praise  of  the  great  house  farm  ;  some- 
thing which  would  flatter  the  pride  of  the  owner, 
and,  possibly,  draw  a  favorable  glance  from  him. 

"I  am  going  away  to  the  gi*eat  house 'farm, 

O  yea !  0  yea  !  0  3'ea ! 
My  old  master  is  a  good  old  master. 

Oh  yea!  Oyea!  Oyea!  " 

This  they  would  sing,  with  other  words  of  their 
own  improvising — ^jargon  to  others,  but  full  of  mean- 
ing to  themselves.  I  have  sometimes  thought,  that 
the  mere  hearing  of  those  songs  would  do  more  to  im- 
press truly  spiritual-minded  men  and  women  with  the 
soul-crushing  and  death-dealing  character  of  slavery, 
than  the  reading  of  whole  volumes  of  its  mere  physi- 
cal cruelties.  They  speak  to  the  heart  and  to  the  soul 
of  the  thoughtful.  I  cannot  better  express  my  sense 
of  them  now,  than  ten  years  ago,  when,  in  sketch- 
ing my  life,  I  thus  spoke  of  this  feature  of  my  plan- 
tation experience  : 


SINGING  OF  SLAVES AN  EXPLANATION.  99 

"  I  did  not,  when  a  slave,  understand  the  deep  meanings  of 
those  rude,  and  apparently  incoherent  songs.  I  was  myself 
within  the  circle,  so  that  I  neither  saw  nor  heard  as  those  with- 
out might  see  and  hear.  They  told  a  tale  which  was  then  al- 
together beyond  my  feeble  comprehension  ;  they  were  tones, 
loud,  long  and  deep,  breathing  the  prayer  and  complaint  of 
Bouls  boiling  over  with  the  bitterest  anguish.  Every  tone  was 
a  testimony  against  slavery,  and  a  prayer  to  God  for  deliver 
ance  from  chains  The  hearing  of  those  wild  notes  always  de- 
pressed my  spirits,  and  filled  my  heart  with  ineffable  sadness. 
The  mere  recurrence,  even  now,  afflicts  my  spirit,  and  while  1 
am  writing  these  lines,  my  tears  are  falling.  To  those  songs  1 
trace  my  first  glimmering  conceptions  of  the  dehumanizing 
character  of  slavery.  I  can  never  get  rid  of  that  conception. 
Those  songs  still  follow  me,  to  deepen  my  hatred  of  slavery, 
and  quicken  my  sympathies  for  my  brethren  in  bonds.  If  any 
one  wishes  to  be  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  soul-killing 
power  of  slavery,  let  him  go  to  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  and, 
on  allowance  day,  place  himself  in  the  deep,  pine  woods,  and 
there  let  him,  in  silence,  thoughtfully  analyze  the  sounds  that 
shall  pass  through  the  chambers  of  his  soul,  and  if  he  is  not 
thus  impressed,  it  will  only  be  because  '  there  is  no  flesh  in  hia 
obdurate  heart.'  " 

The  remark  is  not  unfreqiientlj  made,  that  slaves  are 
the  most  contented  and  happy  laborers  in  the  world. 
They  dance  and  sing,  and  make  all  manner  of  joyful 
noises — so  thej  do ;  but  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  sup- 
pose them  happy  because  they  sing.  The  songs  of 
the  slave  represent  the  sorrows,  rather  than  the  joys, 
of  his  heart ;  and  he  is  relieved  by  them,  only  as  an 
aching  heart  is  relieved  by  its  tears.  Such  is  the*^ 
constitution  of  the  human  mind,  that,  when  pressed 


100  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

to  extremes,  it  often  avails  itself  of  the  most  opposite 
metliods.  Extremes  meet  in  mind  as  in  matter. 
When  the  slaves  on  board  of  the  "  Pearl "  were  over- 
taken, arrested,  and  carried  to  prison — their  hopes  for 
freedom  blasted  —  as  tlic}^  marched  in  chains  they 
sang,  and  found  (as  Emily  Edmunson  tells  us)  a  mel- 
ancholy relief  in  singhig.  The  singing  of  a  man  cast 
away  on  a  desolate  island,  might  be  as  appropriately 
considered  an  evidence  of  his  contentment  and  hap- 
piness, as  the  singing  of  a  slave.  Sorrow  and  deso- 
lation have  their  songs,  as  well  as  joy  and  peace. 
Slaves  sing  more  to  mahe  themselves  happy,  than  to 
express  their  happiness. 

It  is  the  boast  of  slaveholders,  that  their  slaves  en- 
joy more  of  the  physical  comforts  of  life  than  the 
peasantry  of  any  country  in  the  world.  My  expe- 
rience contradicts  this.  The  men  and  the  women 
slaves  on  Col.  Lloyd's  farm,  received,  as  their  monthly 
allowance  of  food,  eight  pounds  of  pickled  pork,  or 
their  equivalent  in  fish.  The  pork  was  often  tainted, 
and  the  fish  was  of  the  poorest  quality — herrings, 
which  would  brinsj  verv  little  if  ofi'ered  for  sale  in 
any  northern  market.  With  their  pork  or  fish,  they 
had  one  bushel  of  Indian  meal — unbolted — of  which 
quite  fifteen  per  cent,  was  fit  only  to  feed  pigs.  AYith 
this,  one  pint  of  salt  was  given ;  and  this  was  the  en- 
tire monthly  allowance  of  a  full  grdwn  slave,  work- 
ing constantly  in  the  open  field,  from  morning  until 
night,  every  day  in  the  month  except  Sunday,  and 
living  on  a  fraction  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of 
meat  per  day,  and  less  than  a  peck  of  corn-meal  per 
week.     There  is  no  kind  of  work  that  a  man  can  do 


THE  slaves'  food  AND  CLOTHING.  101 

wliicli  requires  a  better  supply  of  food  to  prevent 
physical  exhaustion,  than  the  field-work  of  a  slave. 
So  much  for  tlie  slave's  allowance  of  food ;  now  for 
his  raiment.  The  yearly  allowance  of  clothing  for 
the  slaves  on  this  plantation,  consisted  of  two  tow- 
linen  shirts — such  linen  as  the  coarsest  crash  towels 
are  made  of;  one  pair  of  trowsers  of  the  same  mate- 
rial, for  summer,  and  a  pair  of  trowsers  and  a  jacket 
of  woolen,  most  slazily  put  together,  for  winter ;  one 
pair  of  yarn  stockings,  and  one  pair  of  shoes  of  the 
coarsest  description.  The  slave's  entire  apparel  could 
not  have  cost  more  than  eight  dollars  per  year.  The 
allowance  of  food  and  clothing  for  the  little  children, 
was  committed  to  their  mothers,  or  to  the  older  slave- 
women  having  the  care  of  them.  Children  w^ho  were 
unable  to  work  in  the  field,  had  neither  shoes,  stock- 
ings, jackets  nor  trowsers  given  them.  Their  clothing 
consisted  of  two  coarse  tow-linen  shirts — already  de- 
scribed— i^ev  year ;  and  when  these  failed  them,  as 
they  often  did,  they  went  naked  until  the  next  allow- 
ance day.  Flocks  of  little  children  from  five  to  ten 
years  old,  might  be  seen  on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation, 
as  destitute  of  clothing  as  any  little  heathen  on  the 
west  coast  of  Africa ;  and  this,  not  merely  during  the 
summer  months,  but  during  the  frosty  weather  of 
March.  The  little  girls  were  no  better  ofi"  than  the 
boys  ;  all  were  nearly  in  a  state  of  nudity. 

As  to  beds  to  sleep  on,  they  were  known  to  none  of 
ihe'field  hands ;  nothing  but  a  coarse  blanket — not 
so  good  as  those  used  in  the  north  to  cover  horses-^ 
was  given  them,  and  this  only  to  the  men  and  women. 
The  children  stuck  themselves  in  holes  and  corners) 


102  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

about  the  quarters ;  often  in  the  corner  of  the  huge 
chimneys,  with  their  feet  in  the  ashes  to  keep  them 
warm.  The  want  of  beds,  however,  was  not  consid- 
ered a  very  great  privation.  Time  to  sleep  was  of 
far  greater  imj^ortance,  for,  when  the  day's  work  is 
done,  most  of  the  slaves  have  their  washing,  mending 
and  cooking  to  do ;  and,  having  few  or  none  of  the 
ordinary  facilities  for  doing  such  things,  very  many 
of  their  sleeping  hours  are  consumed  in  necessary 
preparations  for  the  duties  of  the  coming  day. 

The  sleeping  apartments — if  they  may  be  called 
such — have  little  regard  to  comfort  or  decency.  Old 
and  young,  male  and  female,  married  and  single,  drop 
down  upon  the  common  clay  floor,  each  covering  up 
with  his  or  her  blanket, — the  only  protection  they 
have  from  cold  or  exposure.  The  night,  however,  is 
shortened  at  both  ends.  The  slaves  work  often  as 
long  as  they  can  see,  and  are  late  in  cooking  and 
mending  for  the  coming  day  ;  and,  at  the  first  gray 
streak  of  morning,  they  are  summoned  to  the  field 
by  the  driver's  horn. 

More  slaves  are  whipped  for  oversleeping  than  for 
any  other  fault.  ]N"either  age  nor  sex  finds  any  favor. 
The  overseer  stands  at  the  quarter  door,  armed  with 
stick  and  cowskin,  ready  to  whip  any  who  may  be  a 
few  minutes  behind  time.  When  the  horn  is  blown, 
there  is  a  rush  for  the  door,  and  the  hindermost  one  is 
sure  to  get  a  blow  from  the  overseer.  Young  mothers 
who  worked  in  the  field,  were  allowed  an  hour^about 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to  go  home  to  nurse  their 
/  children.  Sometimes  they  were  compelled  to  take 
V. their  children  wdth  them,  and  to  leave  them  m.theV 


DESCRIPTION  Ot^   THE  OOWSKIN.  103 

corner  of  the  fences,  to  prevent  loss  of  time  in  nursing  y 
tliem.  The  overseer  generally  rides  about  the  fiel^/ 
on  lioi'seback.  A  cowskin  and  a  hickory  stick  are 
his  constant  companions.  The  cowskin  is  a  kind  of 
whip  seldom  seen  in  the  northern  states.  It  is  made 
entirely  of  untanned,  but  dried,  ox  hide,  and  is  about 
as  hard  as  a  piece  of  well-seasoned  live  oak.  It  is 
made  of  various  sizes,  but  the  usual  length  is  about 
three  feet.  The  part  held  in  the  hand  is  nearly  an 
inch  in  thickness ;  and,  from  the  extreme  end  of  the 
butt  or  handle,  the  cowskin  tapers  its  whole  length  to 
a  point.  This  makes  it  quite  elastic  and  springy.  A 
blow  with  it.  on  the  hardest  back,  will  gash  the  flesh, 
and  make  the  blood  start.  Cowskins  are  painted  "red, 
blue  and  green,  and  are  the  favorite  slave  whip.  I 
think  this  whip  worse  than  the  "  cat-o'-nine-tails."  It 
condenses  the  v/hole  strength  of  the  arm  to  a  single 
point,  and  comes  with  a  spring  that  makes  the  air 
whistle.  It  is  a  terrible  instrument,  and  is  so  handy, 
that  the  overseer  can  always  have  it  on  his  person,  and 
ready  for  use.  The  temptation  to  use  it  is  ever  strong ; 
and  an  overseer  can,  if  disposed,  always  have  cause 
for  using  it.  With  him,  it  is  literally  a  word  and  a 
blow,  and,  in  most  cases,  the  blow  comes  tlrst. 

As  a  general  rule,  slaves  do  not  come  to  the  quar 
ters  for  either  breakfast  or  dinner,  but  take  their  "  ash 
cake"  with  them,  and  eat  it  in  the  field.  This  was  so 
on  the  home  plantation ;  probably,  bec;iiise  the  dis- 
tance from  the  quarter  to  the  field,  was  sometimes  two, 
and  even  three  miles. 

The  dinner  of  the  slaves  consisted  of  a  huge  piece 
of  ash  cake,  and  a  small  piece  of  pork,  or  two  salt 


104  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

herrings.  'Not  having  ovens,  nor  any  suitable  cook- 
ing utensils,  the  slaves  mixed  their  meal  with  a  little 
water,  to  such  thickness  that  a  spoon  would  stand 
erect  in  it ;  and,  after  the  wood  had  burned  away  to 
coals  and  ashes,  they  would  place  the  dough  ])etween 
oak  leaves  and  lay  it  carefully  in  the  ashes,  completely 
covering  it ;  hence,  the  bread  is  called  ash  cake.  The 
surface  of  this  peculiar  bread  is  covered  witli  ashes,  to 
the  depth  of  a  sixteenth  part  of  an  inch,  and  the  ashes, 
certainly,  do  not  make  it  very  grateful  t<y  the  teeth, 
nor  render  it  very  palatable.  The  bran,  or  coarse 
part  of  the  meal,  is  baked  with  the  fine,  and  bright 
scales  run  through  the  bread.  This  bread,  with  its 
ashes  and  bran,  would  disgust  and  choke  a  northern 
man,  but  it  is  quite  liked  by  the  slaves.  They  eat  it 
with  avidity,  and  are  more  concerned  about  the  quan- 
tity than  about  the  quality.  They  are  far  too  scantily 
provided  for,  and  are  worked  too  steadily,  to  be  much 
concerned  for  the  quality  of  their  food.  The  few 
minutes  allowed  them  at  dinner  time,  after  partaking 
of  their  coarse  repast,  are  variously  spent.  Some  lie 
down  on  the  "  turning  row,"  and  go  to  sleep ;  others 
draw  together,  and  talk ;  and  others  are  at  work  with 
needle  and  thread,  mending  their  tattered  garments. 
Sometimes  you  may  hear  a  wild,  hoarse  laugh  arise 
from  a  circle,  and  often  a  song.  Soon,  however,  the 
overseer  comes  dashing  through  the  field.  "  TioTible 
uj)  I  Tumhle  i{/>,  and  to  work^  ivorky^  is  the  cry ; 
and,  now,  from  twelve  o'clock  (mid-day)  till  dark,  the 
human  cattle  are  in  motion,  wielding  their  clumsy 
noes ;  hurried  on  by  no  hope  of  reward,  no  sense  of 
gratitude,  no  love  of  children,,  no  prospect  of  bettering 


THE    CONTKAST.  105 

their  condition ;  nothing,  save  the  dread  and  terror 
of  the  shive-driver's  lash.  So  goes  one  day,  and  so 
comes  and  goes  another. 

Bnt,  let  ns  now  leave  the  rongh  usage  of  the  field, 
where  vulgar  coarseness  and  brutal  cruelty  spread 
themselves  and  flourish,  rank  as  weeds  in  the  tropics ; 
where  a  vile  wretch,  in  the  shape  of  a  man,  rides, 
walks,  or  struts  about,  dealing  blows,  and  leaving 
gashes  on  broken-spirited  men  and  helpless  women, 
for  thirty  dollars  per  month — a  business  so  horrible, 
hardening,  and  disgraceful,  that,  rather  than  engage 
in  it,  a  decent  man  would  blow  his  own  brains  out — • 
and  let  the  reader  view  with  me  the  equally  wicked, 
but  less  repulsive  aspects  of  slave  life  ;  where  pride 
and  pomp  roll  luxuriously  at  ease  ;  where  the  toil  of  a^ 
thousand  men  supports  a  single  family  in  easy  idle-^ 
ness  and  sin.  This  is  the  great  house  ;  it  is  the  home 
of  the  Lloyds  !  Some  idea  of  its  splendor  has  already 
been  given — and,  it  is  here  that  we  shall  find  that 
height  of  luxury  which  is  the  opposite  of  that  depth 
of  poverty  and  physical  wretchedness  that  we  have 
just  now  been  contemplating.  But,  there  is  this  dif- 
ference in  the  two  extremes ;  viz  :  that  in  the  case  of 
the  slave,  the  miseries  and  hardships  of  his  lot  are 
imposed  by  others,  and,  in  the  master's  case,  they  are 
imposed  by  himself.  The  slave  is  a  subject,  subjected 
by  others;  the  slaveholder  is  a  subject,  but  he  is  the 
author  of  his  own  subjection.  There  is  more  truth  in 
the  saying,  that  slavery  is  a  greater  evil  to  the  master 
than  to  the  slave,  than  many,  who  utter  it,  suppose. 
The  self-executing  lav/s  of  eternal  justice  follov/  close 
on   the  heels  of  the  evil-doer  here,  as  well  as  else-. 


106  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

where  ;  making  escape  from  all  its  penalties  impossi- 
ble. But,  let  others  philosophize  ;  it  is  mj  province 
here  to  relate  and  describe ;  only  allowing  myself  a 
word  or  two,  occasionally,  to  assist  the  reader  in  the 
proper  understanding  of  the  facts  narrated. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIFE  IN  THE  GREAT  HOUSE. 

COMFORTS     AND  LUXURIES ELABORATE   EXPENDITURE HOUSE  SERVANTS 

MEN  SERVANTS  AND  MAID  SERVANTS APPEARANCES SLAVE  ARISTOC- 
RACY  STABLE  AND  CARRIAGE  HOUSE BOUNDLESS  HOSPITALITY FRA- 
GRANCE    OF    RICH    DISHES THE     DECEPTIVE    CHARACTER     OF    SLAVERY 

SLAVES    SEEM   HAPPY SLAVES    AND    SLAVEHOLDERS    ALIKE  WRETCHED 

FRETFUL  DISCONTENT  OF  SLAVEHOLDERS FAULT-FINDING OLD   BARNEY 

HIS  PROFESSION WHIPPING HUMILIATING  SPECTACLE — CASE  EXCEPTION- 
AL  WILLIAM    WTLKS SUPPOSED  SON    OF    COL.  LLOYD CURIOUS  INCIDENT 

SLAVES    PREFER  RICH  MASTERS  TO  POOR  ONES. 

The  close-fisted  stinginess  that  fed  the  poor  slave 
on  coarse  corn-meal  and  tainted  meat ;  that  clothed 
him  in  crashy  tow-linen,  and  hurried  him  on  to  toil 
through  the  field,  in  all  weathers,  with  wind  and  rain 
beating  through  his  tattered  garments  ;  that  scarcely 
gave  even  the  young  slave-mother  time  to  nurse  her 
hungry  infant  in  the  fence  corner ;  wholly  vanishes  on 
approaching  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  great  house, 
the  home  of  the  Lloyds.  There  the  scriptural  phrase 
finds  an  exact  illustration ;  the  highly  favored  in- 
mates of  this  mansion  are  literally  arrayed  "  in  purple 
and  fine  linen,"  and  fare  sumptuously  every  day !  The 
table  groans  under  the  heavy  and  blood-bought  luxu- 
ries gathered  with  pains-taking  care,  at  home  and 
abroad.  Fields,  forests,  rivers  and  seas,  are  made  tri- 
butary here.  Immense  wealth,  and  its  lavish  expen- 
di<  'ire,  fill  the  great  house  with  all  that  can  please  the 


108  LITE   AS   A  SLAYE. 

eye,  or  tempt  the  taste.     Here,  appetite,  not  food,  is 
the  great  desideratum.     Fish,  flesh  and  fowl,  are  here 
in  profusion.     Chickens,  of  all  breeds  ;  ducks,  of  all 
kinds,  wild  and  tame,  the  common,  and  the  huge  Mus- 
covite ;  Guinea  fowls,  turkeys,  geese,  and  pea  fowls, 
are  in  their  several  pens,  fat  and  fatting  for  the  des- 
tined Vortex.     The  graceful  swan,  the  mongrels,  the 
black-necked  wild  goose  ;  partridges,  quails,  pheasants 
and  pigeons  ;  choice  water  fowl,  w^th  all  their  strange 
varieties,  are  caught  in  this  huge  family  net.     Beef, 
veal,  mutton  and  venison,  of  the  most  select  kinds  and 
quality,  roll  bounteously  to  this  grand  consumer.  The 
teeming  riches  of  the  Chesapeake  bay,  its  rock,  perch, 
drums,  crocus,  trout,  oysters,  crabs,  and  terrapin,  are 
drawn  hither  to  adorn  the  glittering  table  of  the  great 
house.     The  dairy,  too,  probably  the  finest   on   the 
Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland — supplied  by  cattle  of  the 
best  English  stock,  imported  for  the  purpose,  pours 
its  rich  donations  of  fragrant  cheese,  golden  butter, 
and  delicious  cream,  to  heighten  the  attraction  of  the 
gorgeous,  unending  round  of  feasting.     Nor  are  the 
fruits  of  the  earth  forgotten  or  neglected.     The  fertile 
garden,  many  acres   in  size,  constituting  a  separate 
establishment,  distinct  from  the  common  farm — with 
its  scientific  gardener,  imported  from  Scotland,  (a  Mr. 
McDermott,)  with  four  men  under  his  direction,  was 
not  behind,  either  in  the  abundance  or  in  the  delicacy 
of  its  contributions  to  the  same  fall  board.     The  ten- 
der asparagus,  the  succulent  celery,  and  the  delicate 
cauliflower  ;  egg  plants,  beets,  lettuce,  parsnips,  peas, 
and  French  beans,  early  and  late ;  radislies,  cantelopes, 
melons  of  all  kinds;   the  fruits  and  flowers  of  all 


HOUSE  SERVANTS.  109 

climes  and  of  all  descriptions,  from  the  liardy  apple "" 
of  the  north,  to  the  lemon  and  orange  of  the  south, 
cnbninated  at  this  point.  Baltimore  gathered  hgs, 
raisins,  almonds  and  juicy  grapes  from  Spain.  Wines 
and  brandies  from  France ;  teas  of  various  flavor, 
from  China ;  and  rich,  aromatic  coffee  from  Java,  all 
conspired  to  swell  the  tide  of  high  life,  where  pride 
and  indolence  rolled  and  lounged  in  magnificence  and^ 
satiety. 

Behind  the  tall-backed  and  elaborately  wrought 
chairs,  stand  the  servants,  men  and  maidens — fifteen 
in  number — discriminately  selected,  not  only  with  a 
view  to  their  industry  and  faithfulness,  but  with  spe- 
cial regard  to  their  personal  appearance,  their  grace- 
ful agility  and  captivating  address.  Some  of  these 
are  armed  with  fans,  and  are  fanning  reviving  breezes 
toward  the  over-heated  brows  of  the  alabaster  ladies ; 
others  watch  with  eager  eye,  and  with  fawn-like  step 
anticipate  and  suj)ply,  wants  before  they  are  sufii- 
ciently  formed  to  be  announced  by  w^ord  or  sign. 

These  servants  constituted  a  sort  of  black  aristoc- 
racy on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation.  They  resembled  the 
field  hands  in  nothing,  except  in  color,  and  in  this 
they  held  the  advantage  of  a  velvet-like  glossiness, 
rich  and  beautiful.  The  hair,  too,  showed  the  same 
advanta2:e.  The  delicate  colored  maid  rustled  in  the 
scarcely  v/orn  silk  of  her  young  mistress,  while  the 
servant  men  were  equally  well  attired  from  the  over- 
flowing wardrobe  of  their  young  masters  ;  so  that,  in 
dress,  as  well  as  in  form  and  feature,  in  manner  and 
speech,  in  tastes  and  habits,  the  distance  between 
these  favored  few,  and  the  sorrow  and  hunger-smitten 


110  LIFE   AS  A  SLATE. 

multitudes  of  the  quarter  and  the  field,  was  immense  ; 
and  this  is  seldom  passed  over. 

Let  us  now  o^lance  at  the  stables  and  the  carriage 
house,  and  we  shall  find  the  same  evidences  of  pride 
and  luxurious  extravagance.  Here  are  three  splendid 
coaches,  soft  within  and  lustrous  without.  Here,  too, 
are  gigs,  phgetons,  barouches,  sulkeys  and  sleighs. 
Here  are  saddles  and  harnesses — beautifully  wrought 
and  silver  mounted — kept  with  every  care.  In  the 
stable  you  will  find,  kept  only  for  pleasure,  full  thirty- 
five  horses,  of  the  most  approved  blood  for  speed  and 
beauty.  There  are  two  men  here  constantly  employed 
in  taking  care  of  these  horses.  One  of  these  men 
must  be  always  in  the  stable,  to  answer  every  call 
^  from  the  great  house.  Over  the  way  from  the  stable, 
is  a  house  built  expressly  for  the  hounds — a  pack  of 

C twenty-five  or  thirty — whose  fare  would  have  made 
glad  the  heart  of  a  dozen  slaves.  Horses  and  hounds 
are  not  the  only  consumers  of  the  slave's  toil.  There 
was  practiced,  at  the  Lloyd's,  a  hospitality  which 
would  have  astonished  and  charmed  any  health-seek- 
ing northern  divine  or  merchant,  who  might  have 
chanced  to  share  it.  Yiewed'from  his  own  table,  and 
not  from  the  field,  the  colonel  was  armodel  of  gener- 
ous hospitality.  His  house  was,  literally,  a  hotel,  for* 
weeks  during  the  summer  months.  At  these  times, 
especially,  the  air  was  freighted  with  the  rich  fumes 
of  baking,  boiling,  roasting  and  broiling.  The  odors 
I  shared  with  the  winds  ;  but  the  meats  were  under  a 
more  stringent  monopoly — except  that,  occasionally, 
I  got  a  cake  from  Mas'  Daniel.  In  Mas'  Daniel  I  had 
a  friend  at  court,  from  whom  I  learned  many  things 


DECEPTIVE  CHARACTER  OF  SLAVERY.  .       v 

■which  my  eager  curiosity  was  excited  to  know.  I 
always  knew  when  company  was  expected,  and  who 
they  were,  although  I  was  an  outsider,  being  the  prop- 
erty, not  of  Col.  Lloyd,  biit  of  a  servant  of  the 
w^ealthy  colonel.  On  these  occasions,  all  that  pride, 
taste  and  money  could  do,  to  dazzle  and  charm,  was 
done. 

Who  could  say  that  the  servants  of  Col.  Lloyd  were 
not  well  clad  and  cared  for,  after  witnessing  one  of 
his  magnificent  entertainments  ?  Who  could  say  that 
they  did  not  seem  to  glory  in  being  the  slaves  of  such 
a  master  ?  Who,  but  a  fanatic,  could  get  up  any  sym- 
pathy for  persons  whose  every  movement  was  agile, 
easy  and  graceful,  and  who  evinced  a  consciousness 
of  high  superiority  ?  And  who  would  ever  venture 
to  suspect  that  Col.  Lloyd  was  subject  to  the  troubles 
of  ordinary  mortals?  Master  and  slave  seem  alike  in 
their  glory  here?  Can  it  all  be  seeming?  Alas!  it 
may  only  be  a  sham  at  last !  This  immense  wealth ; 
this  gilded  splendor ;  this  profusion  of  luxury  ;  this 
exemption  from  toil ;  this  life  of  ease ;  this  sea  of 
plenty ;  aye,  what  of  it  all  ?  Are  the  pearly  gates 
of  happiness  and  sweet  content  flung  open  to  such 
suitors  ?  far  from  it  I  The  poor  slave,  on  his  hard, 
pine  plank,  but  scantily  covered  with  his  thin  blanket, 
sleeps  more  soundly  than  the  feverish  voluptuary  who 
reclines  upon  his  feather  bed  and  downy  pillow. 
Food,  to  the  indolent  lounger,  is  poison,  not  sustenance. 
Lurking  beneath  all  their  dishes,  are  invisible  spirits 
of  evil,  ready  to  feed  the  self-eluded  gormandizers 
with  aches,  pains,  fierce  temper,  uncontrolled  pas- 
sions, dyspepsia,  rheumatism,  lumbago  and  gout ;  and^ 


i-  LIFE   AS   A   SLAVE. 

of  these  the  Lloyds  got  their  full  share.  To  the  pam- 
pered love  of  ease,  there  is  no  resting  place.  What 
is  pleasant  to-day,  is  repulsive  to-morrow ;  what  is 
soft  now,  is  hard  at  another  time  ;  what  is  sweet  in 
the  morning,  is  bitter  in  the  evening.  lN"either  to  the 
wicked,  nor  to  the  idler,  is  there  any  solid  peace : 
^'  Troubled^  like  the  restless  seaP 

I  had  excellent  opportunities  of  witnessing  the  rest- 
less discontent  and  the  capricious  irritation  of  the 
Lloyds.  My  fondness  for  horses — not  peculiar  to  me 
more  than  to  other  boys — attracted  me,  much  of  the 
time,  to  the  stables.  This  establishment  was  espe- 
cially under  the  care  of  "old  "  and  "  young  "  Barney — 
father  and  son.  Old  Barney  was  a  fine  looking  old 
man,  of  a  brownish  complexion,  who  was  quite  portly, 
and  wore  a  dignified  aspect  for  a  slave.  He  was,  ev- 
idently, much  devoted  to  his  profession,  and  held  his 
office  an  honorable  one.  He  was  a  farrier  as  well  as 
an  ostler ;  he  could  bleed,  remove  lampers  from  the 
mouths  of  the  horses,  and  was  well  instructed  in  horse 
medicines.  ISTo  one  on  the  farm  knew,  so  well  as  Old 
Barney,  what  to  do  with  a  sick  horse.  But  his  gifts 
and  acquirements  were  of  little  advantage  to  him. 
His  office  was  by  no  means  an  enviable  one.  He 
often  got  presents,  but  he  got  stripes  as  well ;  for  in 
nothing  was  Col.  Lloyd  more  unreasonable  and  ex- 
acting, than  in  respect  to  tlie  management  of  his  pleas- 
ure horses.  Any  supposed  inattention  to  these  ani- 
mals was  sure  to  be  visited  with  degrading  punish- 
ment. His  horses  and  dogs  fared  better  than  his 
men.  Their  beds  must  be  softer  and  cleaner  than 
those  of  his  human  cattle.     JN^o  excuse  could  shield 


A  HUMILIATING  SPECTACLE.  113' 

Old  Barney,  if  the  colonel  only  suspected  something 
wrong  about  his  horses  ;  and,  consequently,  he  was 
often  punished  when  faultless.      It  was  absolutely 
painful  to  listen  to  the  many  unreasonable  and  fretful 
scoldings,  poured  out  at  the  stable,  by  Col.  Lloyd,  his 
sons  and  sons-in-law.     Of  the  latter,  he  had  three — 
Messrs.  Nicholson,  Winder  and  Lownes.     These  all 
lived  at  the  great  house  a  portion  of  the  year,  and  en- 
joyed the  luxury  of  whipping  the  servants  when  they 
pleased,  which  was  by  no  means  unfrequently.     A 
horse  was  seldom  brought  out  of  the  stable  to  which  no 
objection  could  be  raised.     "There  was  dust  in  his 
hair ;  "  ''  there  was  a  twist  in  his  reins  ;  "  "  his  mane 
did  not  lie  straight ; "    "  he  had  not  been  properly 
grained  ;  "  "  his  head  did  not  look  well ;  "  "  his  fore- 
top  was  not  combed  out ;  "  "  his  fetlocks  had  not  been 
properly  trimmed  ;  "    something  was  always  wrong. 
Listening  to  complaints,  however  groundless,  Barney 
must  stand,  hat  in  hand,  Yi-ps  sealed,  never  answering 
a  word.     He  must   make  no  reply,  no  explanation  ; 
the  judgment  of  the  master  must  be  deemed  infalli- 
ble, for  his  power  is  absolute  and  irresponsible.     In  a 
free  state,  a  master,  thus  complaining  without  cause, 
of  his  ostler,  might  be  told — "  Sir,  I  am  sorry  I  cannot 
please  you,  but,  since  I  have  done  the  best  I  can,  your 
remedy  is  to  dismiss  me."     Here,  however,  the  ostler 
must  stand,  listen  and  tremble.      One  of  the  most 
heart-saddening  and  humiliating  scenes  I  ever  wit- 
nessed, was  the  whipping  of   Old   Barney,  by  Col. 
Lloyd  himself.     Here  were  two  men,  both  advanced 
in  years;  there  were  the  silvery  locks  of  Col.  L.,  and 

there  was  the  bald  and  toil-worn  brow  of  Old  Barney ; 

8 


114  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

master  and  slave;  superior  and  inferior  here,  but 
equals  at  the  bar  of  God ;  and,  in  the  common  course 
of  events,  they  must  both  soon  meet  in  another  world, 
in  a  world  where  all  distinctions,  except  those  based  on 
obedience  and  disobedience,  are  blotted  out  forever. 
"  Uncover  your  head !  "  said  the  imperious  master ; 
he  was  obeyed.  ^'Take  off  your  jacket,  you  old  ras- 
cal ! "  and  off  came  Barney's  jacket.  "  Down  on  your 
knees !  "  down  knelt  the  old  man,  his  shoulders  bare, 
his  bald  head  glistening  in  the  sun,  and  his  aged  knees 
on  the  cold,  damp  ground.  In  this  humble  and  deba- 
sing attitude,  the  master — that  master  to  whom  he  had 
given  the  best  years  and  the  best  strength  of  his  life — 
came  forward,  and  laid  on  thirty  lashes,  w^ith  his  horse 
whip.  The  old  man  bore  it  j)atiently,  to  the  last,  an- 
swering each  blow  with  a  slight  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 
and  a  groan.  I  cannot  think  that  Col.  Lloyd  succeed- 
ed in  marring  the  flesh  of  Old  Barney  very  seriously, 
for  the  whip  was  a  light,  riding  w^hip;  but  the  spectacle 
of  an  aged  man — a  husband  and  a  father — humbly 
kneeling  before  a  worm  of  the  dust,  surprised  and 
shocked  me  at  the  time  ;  and  since  I  have  grown  old 
enough  to  think  on  the  wickedness  of  slavery,  few  facts 
have  been  of  more  value  to  me  than  this,  to  which  I 
was  a  witness.  It  reveals  slavery  in  its  true  color, 
and  in  its  maturity  of  repulsive  hatefulness.  I  owe  it 
to  truth,  however,  to  say,  that  this  was  the  first  and 
the  last  time  I  ever  saw  Old  Barney,  or  any  other 
slave,  compelled  to  kneel  to  receive  a  whipping. 

I  saw,  at  the  stable,  another  incident,  which  I  will 
relate,  as  it  is  illustrative  of  a  phase  of  slavery  to  which 
I  have  already  referred  in  another  connection.     Be- 


WILLIAM  WILKS,  115 

sides  two  other  coachmen,  Col.  Lloycl  owned  one 
named  William,  who,  strangely  enough,  was  often 
called  by  his  surname,  Wilks,  by  wdiite  and  colored 
people  on  the  home  plantation.  Wilks  was  a  very 
fine  looking  man.  He  was  about  as  white  as  anybody 
on  the  plantation ;  and  in  manliness  of  form,  and 
comeliness  of  features,  he  bore  a  very  striking  resem- 
blance to  Mr.  Murray  Lloyd.  It  was  whispered,  and 
pretty  generallj^  admitted  as  a  fact,  that  William 
Wilks  was  a  son  of  CoL  Lloyd,  by  a  higlily  favored 
slave- woman,  who  was  still  on  the  plantation.  There 
were  many  reasons  for  believing  this  whisper,  not 
only  in  William's  appearance,  but  in  the  undeniable 
freedom  which  he  enjoyed  overall  others,  and  his  ap- 
parent consciousness  of  being  something  more  than  a 
slaye  to  his  master.  It  was  notorious,  too,  that  Yf  il- 
liam  had  a  deadly  enemy  in  Murray  Lloyd,  -whom  he 
so  much  resembled,  and  that  the  latter  greatly  wor- 
ried his  father  v/ith  importunities  to  sell  William. 
Indeed,  he  gave  his  father  no  rest  until  he  did  sell 
him,  to  Austin  Woldfolk,  the  great  slave-trader  at 
that  time.  Before  selling  him,  however,  Mr.  L.  tried 
what  giving  William  a  whipping  would  do,  toward 
making  things  smooth;  but  this  was  a  failure.  It 
was  a  compromise,  and  defeated  itself;  for,  immedi- 
ately after  the  infliction,  the  heart-sickened  colonel 
atoned  to  William  for  the  abuse,  by  giving  him  a  gold 
watch  and  chain.  Another  fact,  somewhat  curious, 
is,  that  though  sold  to  the  remorseless  Woldfolk,  ta- 
ken in  irons  to  Baltimore  and  cast  into  prison,  with  a 
view  to  being  driven  to  the  south,  William,  by  soms 
means — ^always  a  mystery  to  ine — outbid  all  his  pur- 


116  LIFE  A8  A  SLAVE. 

/ 

chasers,  paid  for  himself,  and  now  resides  in  Balti- 
more,  a  freeman.  Is  there  not  room  to  suspect,  that, 
as  the  gold  watch  was  presented  to  atone  for  the  whip- 
ping, a  purse  of  gold  was  given  him  bv  the  same 
hand,  with  which  to  effect  his  purchase,  as  an  atone- 
ment for  the  indignity  involved  in  selling  his  own 
flesh  and  blood.  All  the  circumstances  of  William, 
on  the  great  house  farm,  show  him  to  have  occupied 
a  different  position  from  the  other  slaves,  and,  cer- 
tainly, there  is  nothing  in  the  supposed  hostility  of 
slaveholders  to  amalgamation,  to  forbid  the  supposi- 
tion that  William  Wilks  was  the  son  of  Edward 
Lloyd.  Practical  amalgamation  is  common  in  ev- 
ery neighborhood  where  I  have  been  in  slavery. 

Col.  Lloyd  was  not  in  the  way  of  knowing  much 
of  the  real  opinions  and  feelings  of  his  slaves  respect- 
ing him.  The  distance  between  him  and  them  was 
far  too  great  to  admit  of  such  knowledge.  His 
slaves  were  so  numerous,  that  he  did  not  know  tliem 
when  he  saw  them.  l!^or,  indeed,  did  all  his  slaves 
know  him.  In  this  respect,  he  was  inconveniently 
rich.  It  is  reported  of  him,  that,  while  riding  along 
the  road  one  day,  he  met  a  colored  man,  and  ad- 
dresssed  him  in  the  usual  way  of  speaking  to  colored 
people  on  the  public  highways  of  the  south  :  "  Well, 
boy,  w^ho  do  you  belong  to  ?  "  "  To  Col.  Lloyd,"  re- 
j)lied  the  slave.  "Well,  does  the  colonel  treat  you 
well  ? "  "  No,  sir,"  w^as  the  ready  reply.  "  What ! 
does  he  work  you  too  hard  ? "  "  Yes,  sir."  "  Well, 
don't  he  give  enough  to  eat?"  "  Yes,  sir,  he  gives 
me  enough,  such  as  it  is."  The  colonel,  after  ascer- 
taining where  the  slave  belonged,  rode  on  ;  the  slave 


PENALTY  FOR  TELLING  THE  TRUTH.  117 

also  went  on  about  liis  business,  not  dreaming  that  he 
had  been  conversing  with  his  master.  He  thought, 
said  and  heard  nothing  more  of  the  matter,  until 
two  or  three  weeks  afterwards.  The  poor  man  was 
then  informed  by  his  overseer,  that,  for  having  found 
fault  Y/ith  his  master,  he  was  now  to  be  sold  to  a 
Georgia  trader.  He  was  immediately  chained  and] 
handcufi'ed ;  and  thus,  without  a  moment's  warning/ 
he  was  snatched  away,  and  forever  sundered  from 
his  family  and  friends,  by  a  hand  more  unrelenting 
than  that  of  death.  This  is  the  penalty  of  telling  tlie 
simple  truth,  in  answer  to  a  series  of  plain  ques-/ 
tions.  It  is  partly  in  consequence  of  such  facts,  that 
slaves,  when  inquired  of  as  to  their  condition  and 
the  character  of  their  masters,  almost  invariably  say 
they  are  contented,  and  that  their  masters  are  kind. 
Slaveholders  have  been  known  to  send  spies  among 
their  slaves,  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  their  views 
and  feelings  in  regard  to  their  condition.  The  fre- 
quency of  this  has  had  the  efi"ect  to  establish  among 
the  slaves  the  maxim,  that  a  still  tongue  makes  a 
wise  head.  They  suppress  the  truth  rather  than  take 
the  consequence  of  telling  it,  and,  in  so  doing,  they 
prove  themselves  a  part  of  the  human  family.  If 
they  have  anything  to  say  of  their  master,  it  is,  gen- 
erally, something  in  his  favor,  especially  v\^hen  speak- 
ing to  strangers.  I  was  frequently  asked,  while  a 
slave,  if  I  had  a  kind  master,  and  I  do  not  remem- 
ber ever  to  have  given  a  negative  reply.  JSTor  did  I, 
when  pursuing  this  course,  consider  myself  as  utter- 
ing what  was  utterly  false  ;  for  I  always  measured 
the  kindness  of  my  master  by  the  standard  of  kind- 


118  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE, 

ness  set  up  by  slaveholders  around  us.  However, 
slaves  are  like  other  people,  and  imbibe  similar  pre- 
judices. They  are  apt  to  think  their  condition  bet- 
ter than  that  of  others.  Many,  under  the  influence  of 
this  prejudice,  think  their  own  masters  are  better 
than  the  masters  of  other  slaves;  and  this,  too,  in 
some  cases,  when  the  very  reverse  is  true.  Indeed, 
it  is  not  uncommon  for  slaves  even  to  Ml  out  and 
quarrel  among  themselves  about  the  relative  kindness 
of  their  masters,  each  contending  for  the  superior 
goodness  of  his  own  over  that  of  others.  At  the  very 
same  time,  they  mutually  execrate  their  masters, 
when  viewed  separately.  It  was  so  an  our  plantation. 
"When  CoL  Lloyd's  slaves  met  those  of  Jacob  Jepson, 
they  seldom  parted  without  a  quarrel  about  their 
masters  ;  Col.  Lloyd^s  slaves  contending  that  he  was 
the  richest,  and  Mr.  Jepson's  slaves  that  he  was  the 
smartest,  man  of  the  two.  Col.  Lloyd's  slaves  would 
boast  his  ability  to  buy  and  sell  Jacob  Jepson  ;  Mr. 
Jepson's  slaves  would  boast  his  ability  to  whip  CoL 
Lloyd.  These  quarrels  would  almost  always  end  in  a 
fight  between  the  parties  \  those  that  beat  were  sup- 
posed to  have  gained  the  point  at  issue.  '  They 
seemed  to  think  that  the  greatness  af  their  masters 
was  transferable  to  themselves.  To  be  a  slave,  wms 
thought  to  be  bad  enough ;  but  to  be  a  ^oor  marCs  > 
slave,  was  deemed  a  disgrace,  indeed. 


CHAPTER  Till, 

A  CHAPTER  OF  HORRORS. 

AUSTIN  GORE — 'A  SKETCH  OF  HIS  CHARACTER OVERSEERS  AS  A  CLASS — THEER 

PECULIAR  CHARACTERISTICS THE  MARKED  INDIVIDUALITY  OF  AUSTIN  GORE 

—HIS    SENSE    OF    DUTY — 'HOW  HE  WHIPPED MURDER  OF  POOR   DENBY 

HOW  IT  OCCUTIRED — 'SENSATION — 'HOW  GORE  MADE  PEACE  WITH  COL. 
LLOYD THE  MURDER  UNPUNISHED ANOTHER  DREADFUL  MURDER  NAR- 
RATED— 'NO  LAWS  FOR  THE  PROTECTION  OF  SLATES  CAN  BE  ENFORCED  IN 
THE    SOUTHERN  STATES. 

As  I  have  already  intimated  elsewhere,  the  slaves 
on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  whose  hard  lot,  under  Mr. 
Sevier,  the  reader  has  already  noticed  and  deplored, 
were  not  permitted  to  enjoy  the  comparatively  mod- 
erate rule  of  Mr.  Hopkins.  The  latter  was  succeeded 
by  a  very  different  man.  The  name  of  the  new  over- 
seer was  Austin  Gore.  Upon  this  individual  I  would 
fix  particular  attention ;  for  under  his  rule  there  was 
more  suffering  from  violence  and  bloodshed  than  had 
— according  to  the  older  slaves — ever  been  experi- 
enced before  on  this  plantation.  I  confess,  I  hardly 
know  how  to  bring  this  man  fitly  before  the  reader. 
He  was,  it  is  true,  an  overseer,  and  possessed,  to  a 
large  extent,  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  his  class ; 
yet,  to  call  him  merely  an  overseer,  would  not  give 
the  reader  a  fair  notion  of  the  man.  I  speak  of  over- 
seers as  a  class.  They  are  such.  They  are  as  dis- 
tinct from  the  slaveholding  gentry  of  the  south,  as  are 
the  fish-women  of  Paris,  and  the  coal-heavers  of  Lon- 


120  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

don,  distinct  from  other  members  of  society.     They 
constitute  a  separate  fraternity  at  the  south,  not  less 
marked  than  is  the  fraternity  of  Park  lane  bullies  in 
I^ew  York.     They  have  been  arranged  and  classified 
by  that  great  law  of  attraction,  which  determines  the 
spheres  and  affinities  of  men;  which   ordains,  that 
men,  whose  malign  and  brutal  propensities  predomi- 
nate over  their  moral  and  intellectual  endowments, 
shall,  naturally,  fall  into  those  employments  which 
promise  the  largest  gratification  to  those  predomina- 
ting instincts  or  propensities.     The  office  of  overseer 
takes  this  raw  material  of  vulgarity  and  brutality,  and 
stamps  it  as  a  distinct  class  of  southern  society.     But, 
in  this  class,  as  in  all  other  classes,  there  are  charac- 
ters of  marked  individuality,  even  while  they  bear  a 
general  resemblance  to  the  mass.     Mr.  Gore  was  one 
of  those,  to  whom  a  general  characterization  would  do 
no  manner  of  justice.     Pie  was  an  overseer;  but  he 
was  something  more.     With  the  malign  and  tyranni- 
cal qualities  of  an  overseer,  he  combined  something 
of  the  lawful  master.     He  had  the  artfulness  and  the 
mean  ambition  of  his  class;  but  he  was  wholly  free 
from  the  disgusting  swagger  and  noisy  bravado  of  his 
fraternity.     There  was  an  easy  air  of  independence 
about  him ;  a  calm  self-possession,  and  a  sternness  of 
glance,  which  might  well  daunt  hearts  less  timid  than 
those  of  poor  slaves,  accustomed  from  childhood  and 
through  life    to  cower  before  a  driver's  lash.     The 
home  plantation  of  Col.  Lloyd  alforded  an  ample  field 
for  the  exercise  of  the  qualifications  for  overseership, 
which  he  possessed  in  such  an  eminent  degree. 
Mr.  Gore  was  one  of  those  overseers,  who   could 


AUSTIN   GORE.  121 

torture  the  slightest  word  or  look  into  impudence  ;  he 
had  the  nerve,  not  only  to  resent,  but  to  punish, 
promptly  and  severely.  He  never  allowed  himself 
to  be  answered  back,  by  a  slave.  In  this,  he  was  as 
lordly  and  as  imperious  as  Col.  Edward  Lloyd,  him- 
self; acting  always  up  to  the  maxim,  practically 
maintained  by  slaveholders,  that  it  is  better  that  a 
dozen  slaves  suifer  under  the  lash,  without  fault,  than 
that  the  master  or  the  overseer  should  seem  to  have 
been  wrong  in  the  presence  of  the  slave.  Everything 
inust  he  absolute  here.  Guilty  or  not  guilty,  it  is 
enough  to  be  accused,  to  be  sure  of  a  flogging.  The 
very  presence  of  this  man  Gore  was  painful,  and  I 
shunned  him  as  I  would  have  shunned  a  rattlesnake. 
His  piercing,  black  eyes,  and  sharp,  shrill  voice,  ever 
awakened  sensations  of  terror  among  the  slaves.  For 
80  young  a  man,  (I  describe  him  as  he  was,  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  years  ago,)  Mr.  Gore  was  singularly 
reserved  and  grave  in  the  presence  of  slaves.  He 
indulged  in  no  jokes,  said  no  funny  things,  and  kept 
his  own  counsels.  Other  overseers,  how  brutal  soever 
they  might  be,  were,  at  times,  inclined  to  gain  favor 
with  the  slaves,  by  indulging  a  little  pleasantry  ;  but 
Gore  was  never  known  to  be  guilty  of  any  such  weak- 
ness. He  was  always  the  cold,  distant,  unapproacha- 
ble overseer  of  Col.  Edward  Lloyd's  plantation,  and 
needed  no  higher  pleasure  than  was  involved  in  a 
faithful  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his  office.  When 
he  whipped,  he  seemed  to  do  so  from  a  sense  of  duty, 
and  feared  no  consequences.  What  Hopkins  did 
reluctantly.  Gore  did  with  alacrity.  There  was  a 
stern  will,  an  iron-like  reality,  about  this  Gore,  which 
F 


122  LWE   AS  A  SLATE. 

would  have  easily  made  liim  tlie  chief  of  a  band  of 
pirates,  had  his  environments  been  favorable  to  snch 
^  a  course  of  life.  All  the  coolness,  savage  barbarity 
and  freedom  from  moral  restraint,  which  are  necessary 
in  the  character  of  a  pirate-chief,  centered,  I  think,  in 
this  man  Gore.  Among  many  other  deeds  of  shock- 
ing cruelty  which  he  perpetrated,  while  I  was  at  Mr. 
Lloyd's,  was  the  murder  of  a  young  colored  man, 
named  Denby.  He  was  sometimes  called  Bill  Denby, 
orDemby ;  (I  write  from  sound,  and  the  sounds  on 
Lloyd's  plantation  are  not  very  certain.)  I  knew  him 
well.  He  was  a  powerful  young  man,  full  of  animal 
spirits,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  he  was  among  the  most 
valuable  of  Col.  Lloyd's  slaves.  Li  something  —  I 
know  not  what  —  he  offended  this  Mr.  Austin  Gore, 
and,  in  accordance  with  the  custom  of  the  latter,  he 
undertook  to  flog  him.  He  gave  Denby  but  few 
stripes ;  the  latter  broke  away  from  him  and  plunged 
into  the  creek,  and,  standing  there  to  the  depth  of  his 
neck  in  water,  he  refused  to  come  out  at  the  order  of 
the  overseer;  whereupon,  for  this  refusal,  Go?'e  shot 
him  dead!  It  is  said  that  Gore  gave  Denby  three 
calls,  telling  him  that  if  he  did  not  obey  the  last  call, 
he  would  shoot  him.  When  the  third  call  was  given, 
Denby  stood  his  ground  firmly ;  and  this  raised  the 
question,  in  the  minds  of  the  by-standing  slaves — 
"  will  he  dare  to  shoot  ?"  Mr.  Gore,  without  further 
parley,  and  without  making  any  further  effort  to  in- 
duce Denby  to  come  out  of  the  water,  raised  his  gun 
deliberately  to  his  face,  took  deadly  aim  at  his  stand- 
ing victim,  and,  in  an  instant,  poor  Denby  was  num- 
bered with  the  dead.     His  mangled  body  sank  out  of 


A  SEJTSATIOJr.  123 

sight,  and  only  his  warm,  red  blood  marked  the  place 
where  he  had  stood. 

This  devilish  outrage,  this  fiendish  murder,  produ- 
ced, as  it  was  well  calculated  to  do,  a  tremendous  sen- 
sation. A  thrill  of  horror  flashed  through  every  soul 
on  the  plantation,  if  I  may  except  the  guilty  wretch 
who  had  committed  the  hell-black  deed.  While  the 
slaves  generally  were  panic-struck,  and  howling  with 
alarm,  the  murderer  himself  was  calm  and  collected, 
and  appeared  as  though  nothing  unusual  had  happened. 
The  atrocity  roused  my  old  master,  and  he  spoke  out, 
in  reprobation  of  it ;  but  the  whole  thing  proved  to 
be  less  than  a  nine  days'  wonder.  Both  Col.  Lloyd 
and  my  old  master  arraigned  Gore  for  his  cruelty  in 
the  matter,  but  this  amounted  to  nothing.  His  reply, 
or  explanation — as  I  remember  to  have  heard  it  at  the 
time  —  Yv' as,  that  the  extraordinary  expedient  was  de- 
manded by  necessity ;  that  Denby  had  become  un- 
manageable ;  that  he  had  set  a  dangerous  example 
to  the  other  slaves ;  and  that,  without  some  such 
prompt  measure  as  that  to  which  he  had  resorted, 
were  adopted,  there  would  be  an  end  to  all  rule  and 
order  on  the  plantation.  That  very  convenient  covert 
for  all  manner  of  cruelty  and  outrage — that  cowardly 
alarm-cry,  that  the  slaves  would  "  tctke,  the  place^^^ 
was  pleaded,  in  extenuation  of  this  revolting  crime, 
just  as  it  had  been  cited  in  defense  of  a  thousand 
similar  ones.  lie  argued,  that  if  one  slave  refused  to 
be  corrected,  and  was  allowed  to  escape  with  his  life, 
when  he  had  been  told  that  he  should  lose  it  if  he 
persisted  in  his  course,  the  other  slaves  would  soon 
copy  his  example  ;  the  result  of  which  would  be,  the 


r 


12i  LITE  AS  A  SLAVIE. 

freedom  of  the  slaves,  and  tlie  enslavement  of  the 
whites.  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  Mr. 
Gore's  defense,  or  explanation,  was  deemed  satisfac- 
tory—at least  to  Col.  Lloyd.  He  was  continued  in  his 
office  on  the  plantation.  His  fame  as  an  overseer 
went  abroad,  and  his  horrid  crime  was  not  even  sub- 
mitted to  judicial  investigation.  The  murder  was 
committed  in  the  presence  of  slaves,  and  they,  of 
V  course,  could  neither  institute  a  suit,  nor  testify 
against  the  murderer.  His  bare  word  would  go  further 
in  a  court  of  law,  than  the  united  testimony  of  ten 
thousand  black  witnesses. 

All  that  Mr.  Gore  had  to  do,  was  to  make  his  peace 
with  Col.  Lloyd.  This  done,  and  the  guilty  perpetra- 
tor of  one  of  the  most  foul  murders  goes  unwhipped 
of  justice,  and  uncensured  by  the  community  in  which 
he  lives.  Mr.  Gore  lived  in  St.  Michael's,  Talbot 
county,  when  I  left  Maryland ;  if  he  is  still  alive  he 
'^probably  yet  resides  there  ;  and  I  have  no  reason  to 
doubt  that  he  is  now  as  highly  esteemed,  and  as  greatly 
respected,  as  though  his  guilty  soul  had  never  been 
stained  with  innocent  blood.  I  am  well  aware  that 
what  I  have  now  written  will  by  some  be  branded  as 
false  and  malicious.  It  will  be  denied,  not  only  that 
such  a  thing  ever  did  transpire,  as  I  have  now  narra- 
ted, but  that  such  a  thing  could  happen  in  Maryland, 
I  can  only  say  —  believe  it  or  not  —  that  I  have  said 
notliing  but  the  literal  truth,  gainsay  it  who  may. 

I  speak  advisedly  when  I  say  this, —  that  killing  a 
slave,  or  any  colored  person,  in  Talbot  county,  Mary- 
land, is  not  treated  a^  a  crime,  either  by  the  courts  or 
the  community.  Mr.  Thomas  Lanman,  ship  carpenter, 


ANOTHER    DREADFUL    MURDER.  125 


of  St.  MichaePs,  killed  two  slaves,  one  of  wliom  he 
butcliered  with  a  hatchet,  by  knocking  his  brains  out. 
He  nsed  to  boast  of  the  commission  of  the  awful  and 
bloody  deed.  I  have  heard  him  do  so,  laughingly, 
saying,  among  other  things,  that  he  w^as  the  only  bene- 
factor of  his  country  in  the  company,  and  that  w^hen 
"  others  would  do  as  much  as  he  had  done,  we  should 
be  relieved  of  the  d — d  niggers." 

As  an  evidence  of  the  reckless  disregard  of  human 
life — where  the  life  is  that  of  a  slave — I  may  state  the 
notorious  fact,  that  the  wife  of  Mr.  Giles  Hicks,  who 
lived  but  a  short  distance  from  Col.  Lloyd's,  with  her 
own  hands  murdered  my  wife's  cousin,  a  young  girl 
between  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  of  age — mutilating 
her  person  in  a  mc^t  shocking  manner.  The  atrocious 
woman,  in  the  paroxysm  of  her  wrath,  not  content  with 
murdering  her  victim,  literally  mangled  her  face,  and 
broke  her  breast  bone.  Wild,  however,  and  infuria- 
ted as  she  was,  she  took  the  precaution  to  cause  the 
slave-girl  to  be  buried ;  but  the  facts  of  the  case  com- 
ing abroad,  very  speedily  led  to  the  disinterment  of 
the  remains  of  the  murdered  slave-girl.  A  coroner's 
jury  was  assembled,  who  decided  that  the  girl  had 
come  to  her  death  by  severe  beating.  It  was  ascer- 
tained that  the  offense  for  which  this  girl  was  thus 
hurried  out  of  the  world,  was  this :  she  had  been  set 
that  night,  and  several  preceding  nights,  to  mind  Mrs. 
Hicks's  baby,  and  having  fallen  into  a  sound  sleep, 
the  baby  cried,  waking  Mrs.  Hicks,  but  not  the  slave- 
girl.  Mrs.  Hicks,  becoming  infuriated  at  the  girl's  tar-  0^ 
diness,  after  calling  her  several  times,  jumped  from 
her  bed  and  seized  a  piece  of  fire-wood  from  the  firs- 


12  G  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

j)lace;  and  then,  as  site  lay  fast  asleep,  she  deliber- 
ately pounded  in  her  skull  and  breast-bone,  and  thus 
ended  her  life.  I  will  not  say  that  this  most  horrid 
murder  pi'oduced  no  sensation  in  the  community.  It 
did  produce  a  sensation;  but,  incredible  to  tell,  the 
moral  sense  of  the  community  was  blunted  too  entire- 
ly by  the  ordinary  nature  of  slavery  horrors,  to  bring 
the  murderess  to  punishment.  A  warrant  was  issued 
for  her  arrest,  but,  for  some  reason  or  other,  that  war- 
rant was  never  served.  Thus  did  Mrs.  Hicks  not  only 
escape  condign  punishment,  but  even  the  pain  and 
mortification  of  being  arraigned  before  a  court  of 
justice. 

Whilst  I  am  detailing  the  bloody  deeds  that  took 
place  during  my  stay  on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  I 
will  briefl}^  narrate  another  dark  transaction,  which 
occurred  about  the  same  time  as  the  murder  of  Denby 
hj  Mr.  Gore. 

On  the  side  of  the  river  Wye,  opposite  from  Col. 
Lloyd's,  there  lived  a  Mr.  Beal  Bondley,  a  wealthy 
slaveholder.  In  the  direction  of  his  land,  and  near 
the  shore,  there  was  an  excellent  oyster  fishing  ground, 
and  to  this,  some  of  the  slaves  of  Col  Lloyd  occasion- 
ally resorted  in  their  little  canoes,  at  night,  with  a 
view  to  make  up  the  deficiency  of  their  scanty  allow- 
ance of  food,  by  the  oysters  that  they  could  easily  get 
there.  This,  Mr.  Bondley  took  it  into  his  head  to  re- 
gard as  a  trespass,  and  while  an  old  man  belonging  to 
Col.  Lloyd  was  engaged  in  catching  a  few  of  the  many 
millions  of  oysters  that  lined  the  bottom  of  that  creek, 
to  satisfy  his  hunger,  the  villainous  Mr.  Bondley,  ly- 
ing in  ambush,  without  the  slightest  ceremony,  dis- 


NO   lAW  PEOTEOTS  THE  SLAVE.  127 

charged  tlie  contents  of  liis  musket  into  the  back  and 
shoulders  of  the  poor  old  man.  As  good  fortune 
would  hav^e  it,  the  shot  did  not  prove  mortal,  and  Mr. 
Bondley  came  over,  the  next  day,  to  see  Col.  Lloyd — 
whether  to  pay  him  for  his  property,  or  to  justify  him- 
self for  what  he  had  done,  I  know  not ;  but  this  I  can 
say,  the  cruel  and  dastardly  transaction  was  speedily 
hushed  up  ;  there  was  very  little  said  about  it  at  all, 
and  nothing  was  publicly  done  which  looked  like  the 
application  of  the  principle  of  justice  to  the  man  whom 
chance^  oi\\j,  saved  from  being  an  actual  murderer. 
One  of  the  commonest  sayings  to  which  my  ears  early 
became  accustomed,  on  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation  and 
elsewhere  in  Maryland,  was,  that  it  was  "  loorth  hut 
half  a  cent  to  hill  a  nigger^  and  a  half  a  cent  to  hury 
hirnf^  and  the  facts  of  my  ex23erience  go  far  to  justify 
the  practical  truth  of  this  strange  proverb.  Laws  for 
the  protection  of  the  lives  of  the  slaves,  are,  as  they 
must  needs  be,  utterly  incapable  of  being  enforced, 
where  the  very  parties  who  are  nominally  protected, 
are  not  permitted  to  give  evidence,  in  courts  of  law, 
against  the  only  class  of  persons  from  whom  abuse, 
outrage  and  murder  might  be  reasonably  apprehended. 
While  I  heard  of  numerous  murders  committed  by 
slaveholders  on  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland,  I 
never  knew  a  solitary  instance  in  which  a  slaveholder 
was  either  hung  or  imprisoned  for  having  murdered 
a  slave.  The  usual  pretext  for  killing  a  slave  is,  that 
the  slave  has  offered  resistance.  Should  a  slave, 
when  assaulted,  but  raise  his  hand  in  self-defense,  the 
white  assaulting  party  is  fully  justified  by  southern,  ) 
or  Maryland,  public  opinion,  in  shooting   the  slave 


128  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

down.  Sometimes  this  is  done,  simply  because  it  is 
alleged  tliat  the  slave  has  been  saucy.  But  here  I 
leave  this  phase  of  the  society  of  my  early  childhood, 
and  will  relieve  the  kind  reader  of  these  heart-sicken- 
ing details. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

PERSONAL  TREATMENT  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

MISS    LXTCRETIA HER     KINDNESS HOW    IT    WAS    MANIFESTED "  IKE  '' A 

BATTLE  WITH  HIM THE  CONSEQUENCES  THEREOF MISS    LUCRETIa's   BAL- 
SAM— BREAD now    I    OBTAINED    IT BEAMS    OF    SUNLIGHT    AMIDST    THE 

GENERAL  DARKNESS SUFFERING  FROM  COLD HOW  WE  TOOK  OUR  MEALS 

ORDERS  TO  PREPARE  FOR  BALTIMORK OVERJOYED  AT  THE  THOUGHT  OF 

QUITTING  THE  PLANTATION EXTRAORDINARY    CLEANSING — COUSIN    TOm's 

VERSION  OF  BALTIMORE ARRIVAL  THERE KIND  RECEPTION  GIVEN  ME  BY 

MRS.  SOPHIA  AULD LITTLE  TOMMY MY  NEW  POSITION MY  NEW  DUTIES 

A  TURNING  POINT  IN  MY  HISTORY. 

I  HAVE  nothing  cruel  or  shocking  to  relate  of  my 
own  personal  experience,  while  I  remained  on  Col. 
Lloyd's  plantation,  at  the  home  of  my  old  master. 
An  occasional  cuff  from  Aunt  Katy,  and  a  regular 
whipping  from  old  master,  such  as  any  heedless  and 
mischievous  boy  niight  get  from  his  ftither,  is  all  that 
I  can  mention  of  this  sort.  I  was  not  old  enough  to 
work  in  the  field,  and,  there  being  little  else  than 
field  w^ork  to  perform,  I  had  much  leisure.  The  most 
I  had  to  do,  was,  to  drive  up  the  cows  in  the  evening, 
to  keep  the  front  yard  clean,  and  to  perform  small  er- 
rands for  my  young  mistress,  Lucretia  Auld.  I  have 
reasons  for  thinking  this  lady  was  very  kindly  dis- 
posed toward  me,  and,  although  I  was  not  often  the 
object  of  her  attention,  I  constantly  regarded  her 
as  my  friend,  and  was  always  glad  when  it  was  my 
privilege  to  do  her  a  service.  In  a  family  where  there 
F*  9 


130  LIFE  AS  A   SLATE. 

was  so  mucli  that  was  liarsli,  cold  and  indifferent,  the 
slightest  word  or  look  of  kindness  passed,  with  me, 
for  its  full  value.  Miss  Lucretia — as  we  all  continued 
to  call  her  long  after  her  marriage — had  bestowed 
npon  me  such  words  and  looks  as  taught  me  that  she 
pitied  me,  if  she  did  not  love  me.  In  addition  to 
words  and  looks,  she  sometimes  gave  me  a  piece  of 
bread  and  butter ;  a  thing  not  set  down  in  the  bill  of 
fare,  and  which  must  have  been  an  extra  ration, 
planned  aside  from  either  Aunt  Katy  or  old  master, 
solely  out  of  the  tender  regard  and  friendship  she  had 
for  me.  Then,  too,  I  one  day  got  into  the  wars  with 
Uncle  Abel's  son,  "  Ike,"  and  had  got  sadly  worsted  ; 
in  fact,  the  little  rascal  had  struck  me  directly  in  the 
forehead  with  a  sharp  piece  of  cinder,  fused  with  iron, 
from  the  old  blacksmith's  forge,  which  made  a  cross 
in  my  forehead  very  j)lainly  to  be  seen  now.  The 
gash  bled  very  freely,  and  I  roared  very  loudly  and 
betook  myself  home.  The  cold-hearted  Aunt  Katy 
paid  no  attention  either  to  my  wound  or  my  roaring, 
except  to  tell  me  it  served  me  right ;  I  had  no  bu- 
siness with  Ike ;  it  was  good  for  me ;  I  would  now 
keep  away  ^''from  dem  Lloyd  niggers.^''  Miss  Lucre- 
tia, in  this  state  of  the  case,  came  forward  ;  and,  in 
quite  a  different  spirit  from  that  manifested  by  Aunt 
Katy,  she  called  me  into  the  parlor,  (an  extra  privi- 
lege of  itself,)  and,  without  using  toward  me  any  of 
the  hard-hearted  and  reproachful  epithets  of  my 
kitchen  tormentor,  she  quietly  acted  the  good  Sama- 
ritan. AVith  her  own  soft  hand  she  washed  the  blood 
from  my  head  and  face,  fetched  her  own  balsam  bot- 
tle, and  with  the  balsam  wetted  a  nice  piece  of  white 


BEAMS  OF  SUNLIGHT.  131 

linen,  and  bound  up  my  head.  Tlie  balsam  was  not 
more  healing  to  the  wound  in  my  head,  than  her  kind- 
ness was  healing  to  the  wounds  in  my  spirit,  made  by 
the  unfeeling  words  of  Aunt  Katy.  After  this,  Miss 
Lucretia  was  my  friend.  I  felt  her  to  be  such  ;  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  simple  act  of  binding  up  my 
head,  did  much  to  awaken  in  her  mind  an  interest  in 
my  welfare.  It  is  quite  true,  that  this  interest  was 
never  very  marked,  and  it  seldom  showed  itself  in 
anything  more  than  in  giving  me  a  piece  of  bread 
when  I  was  very  hungry ;  but  this  was  a  great  favor 
on  a  slave  plantation,  and  I  was  the  only  one  of  the 
children  to  whom  such  attention  was  paid.  When 
very  hungry,  I  would  go  into  the  back  yard  and  play 
under  Miss  Lucretia's  window.  When  pretty  se- 
verely pinched  by  hunger,  I  had  a  habit  of  singing, 
which  the  good  lady  very  soon  came  to  understand 
as  a  petition  for  a  piece  of  bread.  When  I  sung  un- 
der Miss  Lucretia's  window,  I  was  very  apt  to  get 
well  paid  for  my  music.  The  reader  will  see  that  I 
now  had  two  friends,  both  at  important  points — Mas' 
Daniel  at  the  great  house,  and  Miss  Lucretia  at  home. 
From  Mas'  Daniel  I  got  protection  from  the  bigger 
boys  ;  and  from  Miss  Lucretia  I  got  bread,  by  sing- 
ing when  I  was  hungry,  and  sympathy  when  I  was 
abused  by  that  termagant,  who  had  the  reins  of  gov- 
ernment in  the  kitchen.  For  such  friendship  I  felt 
deeply  grateful,  and  bitter  as  are  my  recollections  of 
slavery,  I  love  to  recall  any  instances  of  kindness,  any 
sunbeams  of  humane  treatment,  which  found  way  to 
my  soul  througli  the  iron  grating  of  my  house  of 
bondaofe.      Such  beams  seem  all  the  brighter  from 


132  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

the  general  darkness  into  wliicli  they  penetrate,  and 
the  impression  they  make  is  vividly  distinct  and 
beautiful. 

As  I  have  before  intimated,  I  was  seldom  whipped 
— and  never  severely — by  my  old  master.  I  sufi*ered 
little  from  the  treatment  I  received,  except  from  hun- 
ger and  cold.  These  were  my  two  great  physical 
troubles,  I  could  neither  get  a  sufficiency  of  food  nor 
of  clothing  ;  but  I  suffered  less  from  hunger  than  from 
cold.  In  hottest  summer  and  coldest  winter,  I  was 
kept  almost  in  a  state  of  nudity  ;  no  shoes,  no  stock- 
ings, no  jacket,  no  trowsers  ;  nothing  but  coarse  sack- 
cloth or  tow-linen,  made  into  a  sort  of  shirt,  reaching 
down  to  my  knees.  This  I  wore  night  and  day, 
changing  it  once  a  week.  la  the  day  time  I  could 
protect  myself  pretty  well,  by  keeping  on  the  sunny 
side  of  the  house  ;  and  in  bad  weather,  in  the  corner 
of  the  kitchen  chimney.  The  great  difficulty  was,  to 
keep  warm  during  the  night.  I  had  no  bed.  The 
pigs  in  the  pen  had  leaves,  and  the  horses  in  the  sta- 
ble had  straw,  but  the  children  had  no  beds.  They 
lodged  anywhere  in  the  ample  kitchen.  I  slept,  gen- 
erally, in  a  little  closet,  without  even  a  blanket  to 
cover  me.  In  very  cold  weather,  I  sometimes  got 
down  the  bag  in  which  corn-meal  was  usually  car- 
ried to  the  mill,  and  crawled  into  that.  Sleeping 
there,  with  my  head  in  and  feet  out,  I  was  partly  pro- 
tected, though  not  comfortable.  My  feet  have  been 
so  cracked  with  the  frost,  that  the  pen  with  which  I 
am  writing  might  be  laid  in  the  gashes.  The  manner 
of  taking  our  meals  at  old  master's,  indicated  but  little 
refinement.     Our  corn-meal  mush,  when  sufficiently 


HOW  TVE  TOOK  OUK  MEALS.  1?% 

cooled,  was  placed  in  a  large  wooden  tray,  or  trough, 
like  those  used  in  making  maple  sugar  here  in  the 
north.  This  tray  was  set  down,  either  on  the  floor  of 
the  kitchen,  or  out  of  doors  on  the  ground  ;  and  the  y 
children  were  called,  like  so  many  pigs ;  and  like  so 
many  pigs  they  would  come,  and  literally  devour  the 
mush — some  with  oyster  shells,  some  with  pieces  of 
shingles,  and  none  with  spoons.  He  that  eat  fastest 
got  most,  and  he  that  was  strongest  got  the  best 
place;  and  few  left  the  trough  really  satisfied.  I 
was  the  most  unlucky  of  any,  for  Aunt  Katy  had  no 
good  feeling  for  me  ;  and  if  I  pushed  any  of  the 
other  children,  or  if  they  told  her  anything  unfavora- 
ble of  me,  she  always  believed  the  worst,  and  was 
sure  to  whip  me. 

As  I  grew  older  and  more  thoughtful,  I  was  more 
and  more  filled  with  a  sense  of  my  wretchedness.  The 
cruelty  of  Aunt  Katy,  the  hunger  and  cold  I  sufi'ered, 
and  the  terrible  reports  of  wrong  and  outrage  which 
came  to  my  ear,  together  with  what  I  almost  daily 
witnessed,  led  me,  when  yet  but  eight  or  nine  years 
oldj  to  wish  I  had  never  been  born.  I  used  to  con- 
trast my  condition  with  the  black-birds,  in  whose  wild 
and  sweet  songs  I  fancied  them  so  happy !  Their  ap. 
parent  joy  only  deepened  the  shades  of  my  sorrow. 
There  are  thoughtful  days  in  the  lives  of  children — 
at  least  there  were  in  mine — when  they  grapple  with 
all  the  great,  primary  subjects  of  knowledge,  and 
reach,  in  a  moment,  conclusions  which  no  subsequent 
experience  can  shake.  I  was  just  as  well  aware  of 
the  unjust,  unnatural  and  murderous  character  of  \ 
slavery,  when  nine  years  old,  as  I  am  now.     Without    i/^ 


134:  LIFE  AS    A  SLAVE. 

any  appeal  to  books,  to  laws,  or  to  authorities  of  any 
kind,  it  was  enough  to  accept  God  as  a  fatlier,  to  re- 
gard shivery  as  a  crime. 

I  was  not  ten  years  old  when  I  left  Col.  Lloyd's 
plantation  for  Baltimore.  I  left  that  plantation  with 
inexpressible  joy.  I  never  shall  forget  the  ecstacy 
with  which  I  received  the  intelligence  from  my  friend, 
Miss  Lucretia,  that  my  old  master  had  determined  to 
let  me  go  to  Baltimore  to  live  with  Mr.  Hugh  Auld, 
a  brother  to  Mr.  Thomas  Auld,  my  old  master's  son- 
in-law.  I  received  this  information  about  three  days 
before  my  departure.  They  were  three  of  the  hap- 
piest days  of  my  childhood.  I  spent  the  largest  part 
of  these  three  days  in  the  creek,  Avashing  off  the 
plantation  scurf,  and  preparing  for  my  new  home. 
Mrs.  Lucretia  took  a  liv^ely  interest  in  getting  me 
ready.  She  told  me  I  must  get  all  the  dead  skin  off 
ray  feet  and  knees,  before  I  could  go  to  Baltimore, 
for  the  people  there  were  very  cleanly,  and  would 
laugh  at  me  if  I  looked  dirty ;  and,  besides,  she  was 
intending  to  give  me  a  pair  of  trowsers,  which  I 
should  not  put  on  unless  I  got  all  the  dirt  off.  This 
was  a  warning  to  w^hich  I  w^as  bound  to  take  heed  ; 
for  the  thought  of  owning  a  pair  of  trowsers,  was 
great,  indeed.  It  was  almost  a  sufficient  motive,  not 
only  to  induce  me  to  scrub  off  the  mange^  (as  pig  dro- 
vers would  call  it,)  but  the  skin  as  well.  So  I  went 
at  it  in  good  earnest,  working  for  the  lirst  time  in  the 
hope  of  reward.  I  w^as  greatly  excited,  and  could 
hardly  consent  to  sleep,  lest  I  sliould  be  left.  The 
ties  that,  ordinarily,  bind  children  to  their  homes, 
were  all  severed,  or  they  never  had  any  existence  in 


REJOICED  AT  LEAVING-  THE    PLANTATION.  135 

my  case,  at  least  so  far  as  tlie  home  plantation  of  Col. 
L.  was  concerned.  I  therefore  found  no  severe  trial  at 
the  moment  of  my  departure,  such  as  I  had  experi- 
enced when  separated  from  my  home  in  Tuckahoe. 
My  home  at  my  old  master's  was  charmless  to  me  ; 
it  was  not  home,  but  a  prison  to  me  ;  on  parting  from 
it,  I  could  not  feel  that  I  was  leaving  anything  which 
I  could  have  enjoyed  by  staying.  My  mother  was 
now  long  dead  ;  my  grandmother  v.-as  far  away,  so 
that  I  seldom  saw  her ;  Aunt  Katy  was  my  unrelent- 
ing tormentor  ;  and  my  two  sisters  and  brothers,  owing 
to  our  early  separation  in  life,  and  the  family-de- 
stroying power  of  slavery,  were,  comparatively,  stran- 
gers to  me.  The  fact  of  our  relationship  was  almost  \ 
blotted  out.  I  looked  for  home  elsevrhere,  and  was 
confident  of  finding  none  which  I  should  relish  less 
than  the  one  I  was  leaving.  If,  however,  I  found  in 
my  new  home — to  which  I  was  going  with  such  bliss- 
ful anticipations — hardship,  whipping  and  nakedness, 
I  had  the  questionable  consolation  that  I  should  not  i 
have  escaped  any  one  of  these  evils  by  remaining  un- 
der the  management  of  Aunt  Katy.  Then,  too,  1 
thought,  since  I  had  endured  much  in  this  line  on 
Lloyd's  plantation,  I  could  endure  as  much  elsewhere, 
and  especially  at  Baltimore  ;  for  I  had  something  of 
the  feeling  about  that  city  which  is  expressed  in  the 
saying,  that  being  "hanged  in  England,  is  better  than 
dying  a  natural  death  in  Ireland."  I  had  the  strong- 
est desire  to  see  Baltimore.  My  cousin  Tom — a  boy 
two  or  three  years  older  than  I — had  been  there,  and 
though  not  fluent  (he  stuttered  immoderately,)  in 
speech,  he  had  inspired  me  with  that  desire,  by  his 


136  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

eloquent  description  of  the  place.  Tom  was,  some- 
times, Capt.  Auld's  cabin  boy  ;  and  when  he  came 
from  Baltimore,  he  was  always  a  sort  of  hero  amongst 
IIS,  at  least  till  his  Baltimore  trip  was  forgotten.  I 
could  never  tell  him  of  anything,  or  point  out  anything 
that  struck  me  as  beautiful  or  powerful,  but  that  he 
had  seen  something  in  Baltimore  far  surpassing  it. 
Even  the  great  house  itself,  with  all  its  pictures  within, 
and  pillars  without,  he  had  the  hardihood  to  say 
"was  nothing  to  Baltimore."  He  bought  a  trumpet, 
(worth  six  pence,)  and  brought  it  home ;  told  what  he 
had  seen  in  the  windows  of  stores  ;  that  he  had  heard 
shooting  crackers,  and  seen  soldiers ;  that  he  had  seen 
a  steamboat ;  that  there  were  ships  in  Baltimore  that 
could  carry  four  such  sloops  as  the  "  Sally  Lloyd." 
He  said  a  great  deal  about  the  market-house  ;  he 
spoke  of  the  bells  ringing  ;  and  of  many  other  things 
which  ix>used  my  curiosity  very  much ;  and,  indeed, 
which  heighteiT^l  my  hopes  of  happiness  in  my  new 
home. 

We  sailed  out  of  Miles  river  for"1BaItimore  early 
on  a  Saturday  morning.  I  reme^iiber  only  the  day 
of  the  week;  for,  at  that  time,  I/had  no  knowledge 
of  the  days  of  the  month,  nor,  indeed,  of  the  months 
of  the  year.  On  setting  sail,  I  walked  aft,  and  gave 
to  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation  what  I  hoped  would  be  the 
last  look  I  should  ever  give  to  it,  or  to  any  place  like 
it.  My  strong  a vei'sion  to  the  great  house  farm ,  was  not 
owing  to  my  own  personal  suffering,  but  the  daily 
suifering  of  others,  and  to  the  certainty,  that  I  must, 
sooner  or  later,  be  placed  under  the  barbarous  rule 
of  an  overseer,  such  as  the  accomplished  Gore,  or  the 


ARRIVAL  AT  BALTIMORE.  137 

brutal  and  drunken  Plummer.  After  taking  this  last 
view,  I  quitted  the  quarter  deck,  made  my  way  to 
the  how  of  the  sloop,  and  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
day  in  looking  ahead;  interesting  myself  in  what  was 
in  the  distance,  rather  than  what  was  near  hy  or  be- 
hind. The  vessels,  sweeping  along  the  bay,  were 
very  interesting  objects.  The  broad  bay  opened  like 
a  shoreless  ocean  on  my  boyish  vision,  filling  me  with 
wonder  and  admiration. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  we  reached  Annapolis,  the 
capital  of  the  state,  stopping  there  not  long  enough  to 
admit  of  my  going  ashore.  It  was  the  first  large 
town  I  had  ever  seen ;  and  though  it  was  inferior  to 
many  a  factory  village  in  New  England,  my  feelings, 
on  seeing  it,  were  excited  to  a  pitch  very  little  below 
that  reached  by  travelers  at  the  first  view  of  Kome. 
The  dome  of  the  state  house  was  especially  imposing, 
and  surpassed  in  grandeur  the  appearance  of  the 
great  house.  The  great  world  was  opening  upon  me 
very  rapidly,  and  I  was  eagerly  acquainting  myself 
with  its  multifarious  lessons. 

"We  arrived  in  Baltimore  on  Sunday  morning,  and 
landed  at  Smith's  wharf,  not  far  from  Bowly's  wharf. 
We  had  on  board  the  sloop  a  large  flock  of  sheep,  for 
the  Baltimore  market ;  and,  after  assisting  in  driving 
them  to  the  slaughter  house  of  Mr.  Curtis,  on  Loudon 
Slater's  Hill,  I  was  speedily  conducted  by  Rich — one 
of  the  hands  belonging  to  the  sloop — to  my  new  home 
in  AUiciana  street,  near  Gardiner's  ship-yard,  on  Fell's 
Point.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  riu2:h  Auld,  mv  new  mistress  and 
master,  were  both  at  home,  and  met  me  at  the  door 
with  their  rosy  cheeked  little  son,  Thomas,  to  take 


138  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

care  of  whom  was  to  constitute  my  future  occupation. 
In  fact,  it  was  to  "  little  Tommy,"  ratlier  tlian  to  his 
parents,  that  old  master  made  a  present  of  me  ;  and 
though  there  was  no  legal  form  or  arrangement  en- 
tered into,  I  have  no  doubt  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Auld 
felt  that,  in  due  time,  I  should  be  the  legal  property 
of  their  bright-eyed  and  beloved  boy.  Tommy.  I 
was  struck  with  the  appearance,  especially,  of  my 
new  mistress.  Her  face  was  lighted  with  the  kindli- 
est emotions  ;  and  the  reflex  influence  of  her  counte- 
nance, as  well  as  the  tenderness  with  which  she 
seemed  to  regard  me,  while  asking  me  sundry  little 
questions,  greatly  delighted  me,  and  lit  up,  to  my 
fancy,  the  pathway  of  my  future.  Miss  Lucretia  was 
kind ;  but  my  new  mistress,  "  Miss  Sophy,"  sur- 
passed her  in  kindness  of  manner.  Little  Thomas 
was  affectionately  told  by  his  mother,  that  "  therewas 
his  Freddy^''  and  that  "  Freddy  would  take  care  of 
him  ;  "  and  I  was  told  to  " be  kind  to  little  Tommy" 
— an  injunction  I  scarcely  needed,  for  I  had  already 
fallen  in  love  with  the  dear  boy ;  and  with  these  lit- 
tle ceremonies  I  was  initiated  into  my  new  home,  and 
entered  upon  my  peculiar  duties,  with  not  a  cloud 
above  the  horizon. 

I  may  say  here,  that  I  regard  my  removal  from 
Col.  Lloyd's  .plantation  as  one  of  the  most  interesting 
and  fortunate  events  of  my  life.  Yiewing  it  in  the 
light  of  human  likelihoods,  it  is  quite  probable  that, 
but  for  the  mere  circumstance  of  beino^  thus  removed 
before  the  rigors  of  slavery  had  fastened  upon  me  ; 
before  my  young  spirit  had  been  crushed  under  the 
iron  control  of  the  slave-driver,  instead  of  being,  to- 


A  TURNING  POINT  IN  MY  HISTOKT.  139 

day,  a  freeman,  I  might  have  been  wearing  the  gall- 
ing chains  of  slavery.  I  have  sometimes  felt,  how- 
ever, that  there  was  something  more  intelligent  than 
chance^  and  something  more  certain  than  luck^  to  be 
seen  in  the  circumstance.  If  I  have  made  any  pro- 
gress in  knowledge ;  if  I  have  cherished  any  honora- 
ble aspirations,  or  have,  in  any  manner,  worthily  dis- 
charged the  duties  of  a  member  of  an  oppressed  peo- 
ple ;  this  little  circumstance  must  be  allowed  its 
due  weight  in  giving  my  life  that  direction.  I  have 
ever  regarded  it  as  the  first  plain  manifestation  of  that 

"Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends,      I  ^"-^ 
Rough  hew  them  as  we  will."        \y    \ 

I  was  not  the  only  boy  on  the  plantation  that 
might  have  been  sent  to  live  in  Baltimore.  There 
was  a  wide  margin  from  which  to  select.  There  were 
boys  younger,  boys  older,  and  boys  of  the  same  age, 
belonging  to  my  old  master — some  at  his  own  house, 
and  some  at  his  farm — but  the  high  privilege  fell  to 
my  lot. 

I  may  be  deemed  superstitious  and  egotistical,  in        ] 
regarding  this  event  as_a  j.pacial-4n|erposition--o^-I>i—   '^' 
vineJPxov-idence  in  my  favor;  but  the  thought  is  a      /'^^ 
part  of  my  history,  and  I  should  be  false  to  the  earli- 
est  and  most  cherished  sentiments   of  my  soul,  if  I 
suppressed,  or  hesitated   to  avow  that  opinion,  al- 
though it  may  be  characterized  as  irrational  by  the 
wise,  and  ridiculous  by  the  scoffer.     From  my  earli- 
est recollections  of  serious  matters,  I  date   the  en- 
tertainment of  something  like  an  ineffaceable  con- 
viction, that  slavery  would  not  always  be  able  to 


140  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

hold  me  within  its  foul  embrace  ;  and  this  convic- 
tion, like  a  word  of  living  faith,  strengthened  me 
through  the  darkest  trials  of  mj  lot.  This  good 
spirit  was  from  God ;  and  to  him  I  offer  thanksgiv- 
ing and  praise. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LIFE  IN  BALTIMORE. 

CITT     ANNOYANCES PLANTATION     REGRETS MY    MISTRESS,    MISS     BOPHA^ 

HER     HISTORY HER    KINDNESS     TO     ME MY    MASTER,   HUGH    AULD HIS 

SOURNESS MY    INCREASED    SENSITIVENESS MY    COMFORTS — MY    OCCUPA- 
TION  THE     BANEFUL    EFFECTS  OF  SLAVEHOLDING  ON  MY  DEAR  AND  GOOD 

MISTRESS HOW  SHE  COMMENCED  TEACHING  ME  TO  READ WHY  SHE  CEASED 

TEACHING    ME CLOUDS  GATHERING  OVER  MY  BRIGHT  PROSPECTS MASTER 

AULD's  EXPOSITION  OF    THE  TRUE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SLAVERY CITY  SLAVES 

PLANTATION     SLAVES THE    CONTRAST EXCEPTIONS MR.     HAMILTON'S 

TWO  SLAVES,  HENRIETTA  AND  MARY MRS.  HAMILTON'S  CRUEL  TREATMENT 

OF  THEM THE  PITEOUS  ASPECT  THEY  PRESENTED NO  POWER  MUST  COME 

BETWEEN    THE  SLAVE  AND  THE  SLAVEHOLDER. 

Once  in  Baltimore,  with  hard  brick  pavements  un- 
der my  feet,  which  almost  raised  blisters,  by  their 
very  heat,  for  it  was  in  the  height  of  summer  ;  walled 
in  on  all  sides  by  towering  brick  buildings  ;  with  troops 
of  hostile  boys  ready  to  pounce  upon  me  at  every 
street  corner ;  with  new  and  strange  objects  glaring 
upon  me  at  every  step,  and  with  startling  sounds  reach- 
ing my  ears  from  all  directions,  I  for  a  time  thought 
that,  after  all,  the  home  plantation  was  a  more  desira- 
ble place  of  residence  than  my  home  on  AUiciana 
street,  in  Baltimore.  My  country  eyes  and  ears  were 
confused  and  bewildered  here  ;  but  the  boys  were  my 
chief  trouble.  They  chased  me,  and  called  me  "  Eas- 
tern Shore  man^''  till  really  I  almost  wished  myself 
back  on  the  Eastern  Shore.     I  had  to  undergo  a  sort 


i 


142  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

of  moral  acclimation,  and  when  that  was  over,  I 
did  nmch  better.  Mj  new  mistress  happily  proved 
to  be  all  she  seemed  to  be,  when,  with  her  husband, 
she  met  me  at  the  door,  with  a  most'beaming,  benig- 
nant countenance.  She  was,  naturally,  of  an  excel- 
lent disposition,  kind,  gentle  and  cheerful.  The  super- 
cilious contempt  for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  the 
slave,  and  the  petulance  and  bad  humor  which  gen- 
erally characterize  slaveholding  ladies,  were  all  quite 
absent  from  kind  "  Miss"  Soj^hia's  manner  and  bear- 
ing toward  me.  She  had,  in  truth,  never  been  a  slave- 
holder, but  had — a  thing  quite  unusual  in  the  south — 
depended  almost  entirely  upon  her  own  industry  for 
a  living.  To  this  fact  the  dear  lady,  no  doubt,  ow^ed 
the  excellent  preservation  of  her  natural  goodness  of 
heart,  for  slavery  can  change  a  saint  into  a  sinner, 
and  an  angel  into  a  demon.  1  hardly  knew  how  to  be- 
have toward  "  Miss  Sopha,"  as  I  used  to  call  Mrs. 
Hugh  Auld.  I  had  been  treated  as  a  j)ig  on  the 
plantation  ;  I  was  treated  as  a  child  now.  I  could  not 
even  approach  her  as  I  had  formerly  approached  Mrs. 
Thomas  Auld.  How  could  I  hang  down  my  head, 
and  speak  with  bated  breath,  when  there  was  no  pride 
to  scorn  me,  no  coldness  to  repel  me,  and  no  hatred 
to  inspire  me  with  fear  ?  I  therefore  soon  learned  to 
regard  her  as  something  more  akin  to  a  mother,  than 
a  slaveholding  mistress.  The  crouching  servility  of 
a  slave,  usually  so  acceptable  a  quality  to  the  haughty 
slaveholder,  was  not  understood  nor  desired  b^^  this 
gentle  woman.  So  far  from  deeming  it  impudent  in 
a  slave  to  look  her  straight  in  the  face,  as  some  slave- 
holding  ladies  do,  she  seemed  ever  to  say,  "  look  up, 


KESTDNESS  OF  SIY  NEW  MISTEESS.  143 

cliild  ;  don't  be  afraid  ;  see,  I  am  full  of  kindness  and 
good  will  toward  you."  The  hands  belonging  to  Col. 
Lloyd's  sloop,  esteemed  it  a  great  privilege  to  be  the 
bearers  of  parcels  or  messages  to  ray  new  mistress ; 
for  whenever  they  came,  they  were  sure  of  a  most 
kind  and  pleasant  reception.  If  little  Thomas  was 
her  son,  and  her  most  dearly  beloved  child,  she,  for  a 
time,  at  least,  made  me  something  like  his  half-brother 
in  her  affections.  If  dear  Tommy  was  exalted  to  a 
place  on  his  mother's  knee,  "  Feddy "  was  honored  by  a 
place  at  his  mother's  side.  ISTor  did  he  lack  the  ca- 
ressing strokes  of  her  gentle  hand,  to  convince  him 
that,  though  motherless^  he  was  not  friendless.  Mrs. 
Auld  was  not  only  a  kind-hearted  woman,  but  she 
was  remarkably  pious  ;  frequent  in  her  attendance  of 
public  worship,  much  given  to  reading  the  bible,  and 
to  chanting  hymns  of  praise,  when  alone.  Mr.  Hugh 
Auld  was  altogether  a  different  character.  He  cared 
very  little  about  religion,  knew  more  of  the  world, 
and  was  more  of  the  world,  than  his  wife.  He  set 
out,  doubtless,  to  be— as  the  world  goes — a  respecta- 
ble man,  and  to  get  onby  becoming  a  successful  ship 
builder,  in  that  city  of  ship  building.  This  was  his 
ambition,  and  it  fully  occupied  him.  I  was,  of  course, 
of  very  little  consequence  to  him,  compared  with  what 
I  was  to  good  Mrs.  Auld ;  and,  when  he  smiled  upon 
me,  as  he  sometimes  did,  the  smile  was  borrowed 
from  his  lovely  wife,  and,  like  all  borrowed  light,  was 
transient,  and  vanished  with  the  source  whence  it  was 
derived.  While  I  must  characterize  Master  Hugh  as 
being  a  very  sour  man,  and  of  forbidding  appearance, 
it  is  due  to  him  to  acknowledge,  that  he  was  never 


(. 


144  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

very  cruel  to  me,  according  to  the  notion  of  cruelty 
in  Maryland.  The  first  year  or  two  which  I  spent  in 
his  house,  he  left  me  almost  exclusively  to  the  man- 
agement of  his  wife.  She  was  my  law-giver.  In 
hands  so  tender  as  hers,  and  in  the  absence  of  the 
cruelties  of  the  plantation,  I  became,  both  physically 
and  mentally,  much  more  sensitive  to  good  and  ill 
treatment ;  and,  perhaps,  suffered  more  from  a  frown 
from  my  mistress,  than  I  formerly  did  from  a  cuff  at 
the  hands  of  Aunt  Katy.  Instead  of  the  cold,  damp 
floor  of  my  old  master's  kitchen,  I  found  myself  on 
carpets  ;  for  the  corn  bag  in  winter,  I  now  had  a  good 
straw  bed,  well  furnished  with  covers ;  for  the  coarse 
corn-meal  in  the  morning,  I  now  had  good  bread,  and 
mush  occasionally  ;  for  my  poor  tow-linen  shirt,  reach 
ing  to  my  knees,  I  had  good,  clean  clothes.  I  was 
really  well  off.  My  employment  was  to  run  of  er- 
rands, and  to  take  care  of  Tommy ;  to  prevent  his 
getting  in  the  way  of  carriages,  and  to  keep  him  out 
of  harm's  way  generally.  Tommy,  and  I,  and  his  mo- 
ther, got  on  swimmingly  together,  for  a  time.  I  say 
for  a  tiine^  because  the  fatal  poison  of  irresponsible 
power,  and  the  natural  influence  of  slavery  customs, 
were  not  long  in  making  a  suitable  impression  on  the 
gentle  and  loving  disposition  of  my  excellent  mis- 
tress. At  first,  Mrs.  Auld  evidently  regarded  me 
simply  as  a  child,  like  any  other  child ;  she  had  not 
come  to  regard  me  as  projjerty.  This  latter  thought 
was  a  thing  of  conventional  growth.  The  first  was 
natural  and  spontaneous.  A  noble  nature,  like  hers, 
could  not,  instantly,  be  wholly  perverted ;  and  it  took 
several  years  to  change  the  natural  sweetness  of  her 


CX5MMEN0E   LEARNING  TO  READ.  145 

temper  into  fretful  bitterness.  In  her  worst  estate, 
however,  there  were,  during  the  first  seven  years  I 
lived  with  her,  occasional  returns  of  her  former  kindly 
disposition. 

The  frequent  hearing  of  my  mistress  reading  the 
bible — for  she  often  read  aloud  when  her  husband  was 
absent — soon  awakened  my  curiosity  in  respect  to  this 
mystery  of  reading,  and  roused  in  me  the  desire  to 
learn.  Having  no  fear  of  my  kind  mistress  before  my 
eyes,  (she  had  then  given  me  no  reason  to  fear,)  I 
frankly  asked  her  to  teach  me  to  read ;  and,  without 
hesitation,  the  dear  woman  began  the  task,  and  very 
soon,  by  her  assistance,  I  was  master  of  the  alphabet, 
and  could  spell  words  of  three  or  four  letters.  My 
mistress  seemed  almost  as  proud  of  my  progress,  as  if 
I  had  been  her  own  child ;  and,  supposing  that  her 
husband  would  be  as  well  pleased,  she  made  no  secret 
of  what  she  was  doing  for  me.  Indeed,  she  exultingly 
told  him  of  the  aptness  of  her  pupil,  of  her  intention 
to  persevere  in  teaching  me,  and  of  the  duty  which 
she  felt  it  to  teach  me,  at  least  to  read  the  hible.  Here 
arose  the  first  cloud  over  my  Baltimore  prospects, 
the  precursor  of  drenching  rains  and  chilling  blasts. 
•  Master  Hugh  was  amazed  at  the  simplicity  of  his 
spouse,  and,  probably  for  the  first  time,  he  unfolded 
to  her  the  true  philosophy  of  slavery,  and  the  pecu- 
liar rules  necessary  to  be  observed  by  masters  and 
mistresses,  in  the  management  of  their  human  chat- 
tels. Mr.  Auld  promptly  forbade  the  continuance  of 
her  instruction ;  telling  her,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
thino-  itself  was  unlawful :  that  it  was  also  unsafe,  and 
could  only  lead  to  mischief.  To  use  his  own  words, 
G  .  10 


146  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

further,  he  said,  "  if  yon  give  a  nigger  an  inch,  he 
will  take  an  ell ;"  "  he  should  know  nothing  but  thd 
will  of  his  master,  and  learn  to  obey  it."  "Learning 
would  spoil  the  best  nigger  in  the  world  ;"  "  if  you 
teach  that  nigger — speaking  of  myself — how  to  read 
the  bible,  there  will  be  no  keeping  him ;"  "  it  would  for- 
ever unfit  him  for  the  duties  of  a  slave  ;^'  and  "as  to 
himself,  learning  would  do  him  no  good,  but  probably, 
a  great  deal  of  harm — making  him  disconsolate  and  un- 
happy." "If  you  learn  him  now  to  read,  he'll  want 
to  know  how  to  write  ;  and,  this  accomplished,  he'll 
be  running  away  with  himself."  Such  was  the  tenor 
of  Master  Hugh's  oracular  exposition  of  the  true  phi- 
losophy of  training  a  human  chattel;  and  it  must  be 
confessed  that  he  very  clearly  comprehended  the  na- 
ture and  the  requirements  of  the  relation  of  master 
and  slave.  His  discourse  was  the  first  decidedly  anti- 
slavery  lecture  to  which  it  had  been  my  lot  to  listen. 
Mrs.  Auld  evidently  felt  the  force  of  his  remarks ; 
and,  like  an  obedient  wife,  began  to  shape  her  course 
in  the  direction  indicated  by  her  husband.  The  efiect 
of  his  words,  on  7ne,  was  neither  slight  nor  transitory. 
His  iron  sentences — cold  and  harsh — sunk  deep  into 
my  heart,  and  stirred  up  not  only  my  feelings  into  a 
sort  of  rebellion,  but  awakened  within  me  a  slumbei- 
ing  train  of  vital  thought.  It  was  a  new  and  special 
revelation,  dispelling  a  painful  mystery,  against  which 
my  youthful  understanding  had  struggled,  and  strug- 
gled in  vain,  to  wit :  the  white  man's  power  to  per- 
petuate the  enslavement  of  the  hlach  man.  "  Yery 
well,"  thought  I ;  "  knowledge  unfits  a  child  to  be  a 
slave."     I  instinctively  assented  to  the  proposition  ; 


CITY  SLAVES  AND  COTTNTEY  SLATES.  347 

and  from  that  moment  I  understood  the  direct  path- 
way from  slavery  to  freedom.  This  was  just  what  I 
needed ;  and  I  got  it  at  a  time,  and  from  a  source, 
whence  I  least  expected  it.  I  was  saddened  at  the 
thought  of  losing  the  assistance  of  my  kind  mistress ; 
but  the  information,  so  instantly  derived,  to  some  ex- 
tent compensated  me  for  the  loss  I  had  sustained  in 
this  direction.  Wise  as  Mr.  Auld  was,  he  evidently 
underrated  my  comprehension,  and  had  little  idea  of 
the  use  to  which  I  was  capable  of  putting  the  impres- 
sive lesson  he  was  giving  to  his  wife.  He  wanted  me 
to  be  a  slave  I  I  had  already  voted  against  that  on 
the  home  plantation  of  Col.  Lloyd.  That  which  he 
most  loved  I  most  hated  ;  and  the  very  determination 
which  he  expressed  to  keep  me  in  ignorance,  only.,> 
rendered  me  the  more  resolute  in  seeking  intelligence,.'' 
In  learning  to  read,  therefore,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  do 
not  owe  quite  as  much  to  the  opposition  of  my  master, 
as  to  the  kindly  assistance  of  my  amiable  mistress.  I 
acknowledge  the  benefit  rendered  me  by  the  one,  and 
by  the  other ;  believing,  that  but  for  my  mistress,  I 
might  have  grown  up  in  ignorance. 

I  had  resided  but  a  short  time  in  Baltimore,  before 
I  observed  a  marked  difi'erence  in  the  manner  of 
treating  slaves,  generally,  from  that  which  I  had  wit- 
nessed in  that  isolated  and  out-of-the-way  part  of  the 
country  where  I  began  life.  A  city  slave  is  almost  a 
free  citizen,  in  Baltimore,  compared  with  a  slave  on 
Col.  Lloyd's  plantation.  He  is  much  better  fed  and 
clothed,  is  less  dejected  in  his  appearance,  and  enjoys 
privileges  altogether  unknown  to  the  whip-driven 
slave  on  the  plantation.  Slavery  dislikes  a  dense  popu- 


148  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

lation,  in  which  there  is  a  majority  of  non-slavehold- 
ers. The  general  sense  of  decency  that  must  pervade 
such  a  population,  does  much  to  check  and  prevent 
those  outbreaks  of  atrocious  cruelty,  and  those  dark 
crimes  without  a  name,  almost  openly  perpetrated  on 
the  plantation.  He  is  a  desperate  slaveholder  who 
will  shock  the  humanity  of  his  non-slaveholding 
neighbors,  by  the  cries  of  the  lacerated  slaves ;  and 
very  few  in  the  city  are  willing  to  incur  the  odium  of 
being  cruel  masters.  I  found,  in  Baltimore,  that  no 
man  was  more  odious  to  the  white,  as  well  as  to  the 
colored  people,  than  he,  who  had  the  reputation  of 
starving  his  slaves.  Work  them,  flog  them,  if  need 
be,  but  don't  starve  them.  There  are,  however,  some 
painful  exceptions  to  this  rule.  While  it  is  quite  true 
that  most  of  the  slaveholders  in  Baltimore  feed  and 
clothe  their  slaves  well,  there  are  others  who  keep 
up  their  country  cruelties  in  the  city. 

An  instance  of  this  sort  is  furnished  in  the  case  of 
a  family  who  lived  directly  opposite  to  our  house, 
and  were  named  Hamilton.  Mrs.  Hamilton  owned 
two  slaves.  Their  names  were  Henrietta  and  Mary. 
Tliey  had  always  been  house  slaves.  One  was  aged 
about  twenty-two,  and  the  other  about  fourteen. 
They  were  a  fragile  couple  by  nature,  and  the  treat- 
ment they  received  was  enough  to  break  down  the 
constitution  of  a  horse.  Of  all  the  dejected,  emacia- 
ted, mangled  and  excoriated  creatures  I  ever  saw, 
those  two  girls — in  the  refined,  church  going  and 
Christian  city  of  Baltimore — were  the  most  deplora- 
ble. Of  stone  must  that  heart  be  made,  that  could 
look  upon  Henrietta  and  Mary,  without  being  sick 


MES.  Hamilton's  crxtelty  to  hek  slaves.       149 

ened  to  the  core  with  sadness.  Especially  was  Mary 
a  heart-sickening  object.  Her  head,  neck  and  shoul- 
ders, were  literally  cut  to  pieces.  I  have  frequently 
felt  her  head,  and  found  it  nearly  covered  over  with 
festering  sores,  caused  by  the  lash  of  her  cruel  mis- 
tress. I  do  not  know  that  her  master  ever  whipped 
her,  but  I  have  often  been  an  eye  witness  of  the  re- 
volting and  brutal  inflictions  by  Mrs.  Hamilton  ;  and 
what  lends  a  deeper  shade  to  this  Avoman's  conduct, 
is  the  fact,  that,  almost  in  the  very  moments  of  her 
shocking  outrages  of  humanity  and  decency,  she 
would  charm  you  by  the  sweetness  of  her  voice  and 
her  seeming  piety.  She  used  to  sit  in  a  large  rock- 
ing chair,  near  the  middle  of  the  room,  with  a  heavy 
cowskin,  such  as  I  have  elsewhere  described  ;  and  I 
speak  within  the  truth  when  I  say,  that  those  girls 
seldom  passed  that  chair,  during  the  day,  without  a 
blow  from  that  cowskin,  either  upon  their  bare  arms, 
or  upon  their  shoulders.  As  they  passed  her,  she 
would  draw  her  cowskin  and  give  them  a  blow,  say- 
ing, "  move  faster^  you  hlackjij?  I  "  and,  again,  "  take 
that^  you  hlacJcji^  !  "  continuing,  "  if  you  clonH  onove 
faster^  I  will  give  you  more.^'^  Then  the  lady  would 
go  on,  singing  her  sweet  hymns,  as  though  her 
righteous  soul  were  sighing  for  the  holy  realms  of 
paradise. 

Added  to  the  cruel  lashings  to  which  these  poor 
slave-girls  were  subjected — enough  in  themselves  to 
crush  the  spirit  of  men — they  were,  really,  kept 
nearly  half  starved  ;  they  seldom  knew  what  it  was 
to  eat  a  full  meal,  except  when  they  got  it  in  the 
kitchens  of  neighbors,  less  mean  and  stingy  than  the 


150  LIFE  AS   A  SLAVE. 

psalm-singing  Mrs.  Hanailton.  I  have  seen  poor 
Mary  contending  for  the  offal,  with  the  pigs  in  the 
street.  So  much  was  the  poor  girl  pinched,  kicked, 
cut  and  pecked  to  pieces,  that  the  boys  in  the  street 
knew  her  only  by  the  name  of  ^^  jpecked^'*  a  name  de- 
rived from  the  scars  and  blotches  on.  her  neck,  head 
and  shoulders. 

It  is  some  relief  to  this  picture  of  slavery  in  Balti- 
more, to  say — what  is  but  the  simple  truth — that 
Mrs.  Hamilton's  treatment  of  her  slaves  was  gener- 
ally condemned,  as  disgraceful  and  shocking ;  but 
while  I  say  this,  it  must  also  be  remembered,  that 
the  very  parties  who  censured  the  cruelty  of  Mrs. 
Hamilton,  would  have  condemned  and  promptly  pun- 
ished any  attempt  to  interfere  with  Mrs.  Hamilton's 
right  to  cut  and  slash  her  slaves  to  pieces.  There 
must  be  no  force  between  the  slave  and  the  slave- 
holder, to  restrain  the  power  of  the  one,  and  protect 
the  weakness  of  the  other ;  and  the  cruelty  of  Mrs. 
Hamilton  is  as  justly  chargeable  to  the  upholders  of 
the  slave  system,  as  drunkenness  is  chargeable  on 
those  who,  by  precept  and  example,  or  by  indiffer- 
ence, uphold  the  drinking  system. 


CHAPTOE  XI. 

«  A  CHANGE  CAME  O'ER  THE  SPIRIT  OF  MY  DREAM." 

HOW  THE  AUTHOR   LEARNED    TO    READ — MY    MISTRESS HER    SLAVEHOLDING 

DUTIES THEIR  DEPLORABLE    EFFECTS    UPON    HER  ORIGINALLY    NOBLE  NA- 
TURE  THE  CONFLICT  IN  HER  MIND HER  FINAL  OPPOSITION  TO  MY  LEARNING 

TO  READ TOO  LATE SHE  HAD  GIVEN  ME  THE  "iNCH,"  I  WAS  RESOLVED  TO 

TAKE  THE  "  ELL  " HOW  I  PURSUED  MY  EDUCATION MY  TUTORS HOW  I 

COMPENSATED  THEM — WHAT  PROGRESS  I  MADE SLAVERY WHAT  I  HEARD 

SAID  ABOUT    IT — ^THIRIEEN    YEARS    OLD — THE    "COLUMBIAN    ORATOR " A 

RICH    SCENE A  DIALOGUE SPEECHES  OF  CHATHAM,  SHERIDAN,  PITT    AND 

FOX KNOWLEDGE   EVER  INCREASING MY  EYES  OPENED LIBERTY HOW 

I  PINED    FOR    IT MY    SADNESS THE    DISSATISFACTION  OF    MY    POOR    MIS- 
TRESS  MY   HATRED   OF    SLAVERY — ONE    UPAS    TREE    OVERSHADOWED  US 

BOTH. 

I  LIVED  in  tlie  family  of  Master  Hiigli,  at  Baltimore, 
seven  years,  during  which  time — as  the  almanac  ma- 
kers say  of  the  weather — my  condition  was  variable. 
The  most  interesting  feature  of  my  history  here,  was 
my  learning  to  read  and  write,  under  somewhat 
marked  disadvantages.  In  attaining  this  knowledge, 
I  was  compelled  to  resort  to  indirections  by  no  means 
congenial  to  my  nature,  and  which  were  really  hu- 
miliating to  me.  My  mistress — who,  as  the  reader 
has  already  seen,  had  begun  to  teach  me — was  sud- 
denly checked  in  her  benevolent  design,  by  the  strong 
advice  of  her  husband.  In  faithful  compliance  with 
this  advice,  the  good  lady  had  not  only  ceased  to  in- 
struct me,  herself,  but  had  set  her  face  as  a  flint 
against  my  learning  to  read  by  any  means.     It  is  due, 


/ 

.    152  LIFE   AS    A   SLAVE. 

however,  to  my  mistress  to  sav,  that  she  did  not 
adopt  this  course  in  all  its  stringency  at  the  first. 
She  either  thought  it  unnecessary,  or  she  lacked  the 
depravity  indispensable  to  shutting  me  up  in  mental 
darkness.  It  was,  at  least,  necessary  for  her  to  have 
bomc  training,  and  some  hardening,  in  the  exercise 
of  the  slaveholder's  prerogative,  to  make  her  equal 
to  forgetting  my  human  nature  and  character,  and  to 
treating  me  as  a  thing  destitute  of  a  moral  or  an  in- 
tellectual nature.  Mrs.  Auld — my  mistress — was,  as 
I  have  said,  a  most  kind  and  tender-hearted  woman ; 
and,  in  the  humanity  of  her  heart,  and  the  simplicity 
of  her  mind,  she  set  out,  when  I  first  went  to  live 
with  her,  to  treat  me  as  she  supposed  one  human  be- 
ing ought  to  treat  another. 

It  is  easy  to  see,  that,  in  entering  upon  the  duties 
of  a  slaveholder,  some  little  experience  is  needed. 
iTature  has  done  almost  nothing  to  prepare  men  and 
women  to  be  either  slaves  or  slaveholders.  JSTothing 
but  rigid  training,  long  persisted  in,  can  perfect  the 
character  of  the  one  or  the  other.  One  cannot  easily 
forget  to  love  freedom ;  and  it  is  as  hard  to  cease  to  re- 
spect that  natural  love  in  our  fellow  creatures.  On 
enterino"  ur>on  the  career  of  a  slaveholdino^  mistress. 
Mrs.  Auld  was  singularly  deficient ;  nature,  which  fits 
nobody  for  such  an  office,  had  done  less  for  her  than 
any  lady  I  had  known.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  in- 
duce her  to  think  and  to  feel  that  the  curly-headed 
boy,  who  stood  by  her  side,  and  even  leaned  on  her 
lap  ;  who  was  loved  by  little  Tommy,  and  who  loved 
little  Tommy  in  turn ;  sustained  to  her  only  the  rela- 
tion of  a  chattel.     I  was  more  than  that,  and  she  felt 


EFFECTS  OF  SLAVEHOLDING  ON  anf  MISTKESS.         153 

me  to  be  more  than  that.  I  could  talk  and  sing  ;  I 
could  laugh  and  weep  ;  I  could  reason  and  remem- 
ber ;  I  could  love  and  hate,  I  was  human,  and  she, 
dear  lady,  knew  and  felt  me  to  be  so.  How  could 
she,  then,  treat  me  as  a  brute,  without  a  mighty  strug- 
gle with  all  the  noble  j)owers  of  her  own  soul.  That 
struggle  came,  and  the  will  and  power  of  the  hus- 
band was  victorious.  Her  noble  soul  was  over- 
thrown ;  but,  he  that  overthrew  it  did  not,  himself, 
escape  the  consequences.  He,  not  less  than  the  other 
parties,  was  injured  in  his  domestic  peace  by  the 
fall. 

When  I  went  into  their  family,  it  was  the  abode 
of  happiness  and  contentment.  The  mistress  of  the 
house  was  a  model  of  affection  and  tenderness.  Her 
fervent  piety  and  watchful  uprightness  made  it  im- 
possible to  see  her  without  thinking  and  feeling — "  that 
woman  is  a  christian.'^''  There  was  no  sorrov/  nor  suf- 
fering for  which  she  had  not  a  tear,  and  there  was  no 
innocent  joy  for  which  she  had  not  a  smile.  She  had 
bread  for  the  hungry,  clothes  for  the  naked,  and  com- 
fort for  every  mourner  that  came  within  her  reach. 
Slavery  soon  proved  its  ability  to  divest  her  of  these 
excellent  qualities,  and  her  home  of  its  early  happi- 
ness. Conscience  cannot  stand  much  violence.  Once^ 
thoroughly  broken  dowm,  wJio  is  he  that  can  repair } 
the  damage?  It  may  be  broken  toward  the  slave,' 
on  Sunday,  and  toward  the  master  on  Monday.  It 
cannot  endure  such  shocks.  It  must  stand  entire,  or 
it  does  not  stand  at  all.  If  my  condition  waxed  bad, 
that  of  the  family  waxed  not  better.  The  first  step, 
in  the  wrong  direction,  was  the  violence  done  to  na- 


154:  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

ture  and  to  conscience,  in  arresting  the  benevolence 
that  would  have  enlightened  my  young  mind.  In 
ceasing  to  instruct  me,  she  must  begin  to  justify  her- 
self to  herself;  and,  once  consenting  to  take  sides  in 
such  a  debate,  she  was  riveted  to  her  position.  One 
needs  very  little  knowledge  of  moral  philosophy,  to 
see  where  my  mistress  now  landed.  She  finally  be- 
came even  more  violent  in  her  opposition  to  my  learn- 
ing to  read,  than  was  her  husband  himself.  She  was 
not  satisfied  with  simply  doing  as  well  as  her  husband 
had  commanded  her,  but  seemed  resolved  to  better 
his  instruction.  ISTothing  appeared  to  make  my  poor 
mistress — after  her  turning  tow^ard  the  downward 
path — more  angry,  than  seeing  me,  seated  in  some  nook 
or  corner,  quietly  reading  a  book  or  a  newspaper.  I 
have  had  her  rush  at  me,  with  the  utmost  fury,  and 
snatch  from  my  hand  such  newspaper  or  book,  with 
something  of  the  wrath  and  consternation  which  a 
traitor  might  be  supposed  to  feel  on  being  discovered 
in  a  plot  by  some  dangerous  spy. 

Mrs.  Auld  was  an  apt  woman,  and  the  advice  of 
her  husband,  and  her  own  experience,  soon  demon- 
strated, to  her  entire  satisfaction,  that  education  and 
slavery  are  incompatible  with  each  other.  When  this 
conviction  was  thoroughly  established,  I  was  most 
narrowly  watched  in  all  my  movements.  If  I  remained 
in  a  separate  room  from  the  family  for  any  consider- 
able length  of  time,  I  was  sure  to  be  suspected  of  hav- 
ing a  book,  and  was  at  once  called  upon  to  give  an 
account  of  myself.  All  this,  however,  was  entirely 
too  late.  The  first,  and  never  to  be  retraced,  step  had 
been  taken.     In   teaching  me   the  alphabet,  in  the 


HOW  I  PUESITED  l^'LY  EDUCATION.  155 

days  of  her  simplicity  and  kindness,  my  mistress  had 
given  me  the  "  mch/^  and  now,  no  ordinary  precau- 
tion could  prevent  me  from  taking  the  "  ellJ^ 

Seized  with  a  determination  to  learn  to  read,  at  any 
cost,  I  hit  upon  many  expedients  to  accomplish  the 
desired  end.  The  plea  which  I  mainly  adopted,  and 
the  one  by  which  I  was  most  successful,  was  that  of 
using  my  young  white  playmates,  with  whom  I  met 
in  the  street,  as  teachers.  I  used  to  carry,  almost  con- 
stantly, a  copy  of  Webster's  spelling  book  in  my  pock- 
et ;  and,  when  sent  of  errands,  or  when  play  time  was 
allowed  me,  I  would  step,  with  my  young  friends, 
aside,  and  take  a  lesson  in  spelling.  I  generally  paid 
my  tuitio7i  fee  to  the  boys,  with  bread,  which  I  also 
carried  in  my  pocket.  For  a  single  biscuit,  any  of 
my  hungry  little  comrades  would  give  me  a  lesson 
more  valuable  to  me  than  bread.  Not  every  one, 
however,  demanded  this  consideration,  for  there  were 
those  who  took  pleasure  in  teaching  me,  whenever  I 
had  a  chance  to  be  taught  by  them.  I  am  strongly 
tempted  to  give  the  names  of  two  or  three  of  those 
little  boys,  as  a  slight  testimonial  of  the  gratitude  and 
affection  I  bear  them,  but  prudence  forbids  ;  not  that 
it  would  injure  me,  but  it  might,  possibly,  embarrass 
them ;  for  it  is  almost  an  unpardonable  offense  to  do 
any  thing,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  promote  a  slave's 
freedom,  in  a  slave  state.  It  is  enough  to  say,  of  my 
warm-hearted  little  play  fellows,  that  they  lived  on 
Philpot  street,  very  near  Durgin  &  Bailey's  shipyard. 

Although  slavery  was  a  delicate  subject,  and  very 
cautiously  talked  about  among  grown  up  people  in 
Maryland,  I  frequently  talked  about  it — and  that  very 


156  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

freely — with  the  white  boys.  I  would,  sometimes,  say 
to  them,  while  seated  on  a  curb  stone  or  a  ceUar  door, 
"I  wish  I  could  be  free,  as  you  will  be  when  you  get 
to  be  men."  "  You  will  be  free,  you  know,  as  soon 
as  you  are  twenty-one,  and  can  go  where  you  like, 
but  I  am  a  slave  for  life.  Have  1  not  as  good  a  right 
to  be  free  as  you  have  ?"  Words  like  these,  I  ob- 
served, always  troul)led  them ;  and  I  had  no  small  satis- 
faction in  wringing  from  the  boys,  occasionally,  that 
fresh  and  bitter  condemnation  of  slavery,  that  springs 
from  nature,  unseared  and  unperverted.  Of  all  con- 
sciences, let  me  have  those  to  deal  with  which  have 
^"not  been  bewildered  by  the  cares  of  life.  I  do  not 
remember  ever  to  have  met  with  a  hoy^  while  I  was 
..in  slavery,  who  defended  the  slave  system  ;  but  I  have 
often  had  boys  to  console  me,  with  the  hope  that 
something  would  yet  occur,  by  which  I  might  be  made 
free.  Over  and  over  again,  they  have  told  me,  that 
"they  believed  /  had  as  good  a  right  to^  be  free  as 
they  had ;"  and  that  "  they  did  not  believe  God  ever 
made  any  one  to  be  a  slave."  The  reader  will  easily 
see,  that  such  little  conversations  with  my  playfellows, 
had  no  tendency  to  weaken  my  love  of  liberty,  nor  to 
render  me  contented  with  my  condition  as  a  slave. 

When  I  was  about  thirteen  years  old,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  learning  to  read,  every  increase  of  know- 
ledge, especially  respecting  the  Free  States,  added 
something  to  the  almost  intolerable  burden  of  the 
thought — "  I  AM  A  Slave  for  life."  To  my  bon- 
dage I  saw  no  end.  It  was  a  terrible  reality,  and  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  tell  how  sadly  that  thought 
chafed  my  young  spirit.     Fortunately,   or  unfortu- 


THE  COLUT^LBIAN  OKATOR A  DIAJLOGUE.  157 

nately,  about  this  time  in  my  life,  I  had  made  enough 
money  to  buy  what  was  then  a  very  popular  school 
book,  viz  :  the  "  Columbian  Orator."  I  bought  this 
addition  to  my  library,  of  Mr.  Knight,  on  Thames 
street,  Fell's  Point,  Baltimore,  and  paid  him  fifty 
cents  for  it.  I  was  first  led  to  buy  this  book,  by  hear- 
ing some  little  boys  say  that  they  were  going  to  learn 
some  little  pieces  out  of  it  for  the  Exhibition.  This 
volume  was,  indeed,  a  rich  treasure,  and  every  oppor- 
tunit}"  afforded  me,  for  a  time,  was  spent  in  diligently 
perusing  it.  Among  much  other  interesting  matter, 
that  which  I  had  perused  and  reperused  with  unflag- 
ging satisfaction,  was  a  short  dialogue  between  a  mas- 
ter and  his  slave.  The  slave  is  represented  as  having 
been  recaptured,  in  a  second  attempt  to  run  away  ;  and 
the  master  opens  the  dialogue?iv;ith  an  upbraiding 
speech,  charging  the  slave  with  ingratitude,  and  de- 
manding to  know  what  he  has  to  say  in  his  own  de- 
fense. Thus  upbraided,  and  thus  called  upon  to  re- 
ply, the  slave  rejoins,  that  he  knows  how  little  any- 
thing that  he  can  say  will  avail,  seeing  that  he  is 
completely  in  the  hands  of  his  owner ;  and  with  noble 
resolution,  calmly  says,  "  I  submit  to  my  fate." 
Touched  by  the  slave's  answer,  the  master  insists  upon 
his  further  speaking,  and  recapitulates  the  many  acts 
of  kindness  which  he  has  performed  toward  the  slave, 
and  tells  him  he  is  permitted  to  speak  for  himself. 
Thus  invited  to  the  debate,  the  quondam  slave  made 
a  spirited  defense  of  himself,  and  thereafter  the  whole 
argument,  for  and  against  slavery,  was  brought  out. 
The  master  was  vanquished  at  every  turn  in  the  argu- 
ment ;  and  seeing  himself  to  be  thus  vanquished,  he 


158  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

generously  and  meekly  emancipates  the  slave,  with 
his  best  wishes  for  his  prosperity.  It  is  scarcely 
neccessary  to  say,  that  a  dialogue,  with  such  an  origin, 
and  such  an  ending — -read  when  the  fact  of  my  being 
a  slave  was  a  constant  burden  of  grief— powerfully 
affected  me ;  and  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  the 
day  might  come,  when  the  well-directed  answers  made 
by  the  slave  to  the  master,  in  this  instance,  would 
find  their  counterpart  in  myself. 

This,  however,  was  not  all  the  fanaticism  which  I 
found  in  this  Columbian  Orator.  I  met  there  one  of 
Sherida.n's  mighty  speeches,  on  the  subject  of  Catho- 
lic Emancipation,  Lord  Chatham's  speech  on  the 
American  war,  and  speeches  by  the  great  William 
Pitt  and  by  Fox.  These  were  all  choice  documents 
to  me,  and  I  read  tl^m,  over  and  over  again,  with  an 
interest  that  was  ever  increasing,  because  it  was  ever 
gaining  in  intelligence  ;  for  the  more  I  read  them,  the 
better  I  understood  them.  The  reading  of  these 
speeches  added  much  to  my  limited  stock  of  language, 
and  enabled  me  to  give  tongue  to  many  interesting 
thoughts,  which  had  frequently  flashed  through  my 
soul,  and  died  away  for  want  of  utterance.  The 
mighty  power  and  heart-searching  directness  of  truth, 
penetrating  even  the  heart  of  a  slaveholder,  compel- 
ling him  to  yield  up  his  earthly  interests  to  the  claims 
of  eternal  justice,  were  finely  illustrated  in  the  dia- 
logue, just  referred  to  ;  and  from  the  speeches  of  Sheri- 
dan, I  got  a  bold  and  powerful  denunciation  of  op- 
pression, and  a  most  brilliant  vindication  of  the  rights 
of  man.  Here  was,  indeed,  a  noble  acquisition.  If 
I  ever  wavered  under  the  consideration,  that  the  Al- 


MY  EYES  OPENED.  159 

miglity,  in  some  way,  ordained  slavery,  and  willed 
my  enslavement  for  his  own  glory,  I  wavered  no  lon- 
ger. I  had  now  penetrated  the  secret  of  all  slavery  \ 
and  oppression,  and  had  ascertained  their  true  foim-  / 
dation  to  be  in  the  pride,  the  power  and  the  avarice 
of  man.  The  dialogue  and  the  speeches  were  all  redo-' 
lent  of  the  principles  of  liberty,  and  poured  floods  of 
light  on  the  nature  and  character  of  slavery.  With  a 
book  of  this  kind  in  my  hand,  my  own  human  nature, 
and  the  facts  of  my  experience,  to  help  me,  I  was 
equal  to  a  contest  with  the  religious  advocates  of  slave- 
ry, whether  among  the  whites  or  among  the  colored 
people,  for  blindness,  in  this  matter,  is  not  confined 
to  the  former.  I  have  met  many  religious  colored 
people,  at  the  south,  who  are  under  the  delusion  that 
God  requires  them  to  submit  to  slavery,  and  to  wear 
their  chains  with  meekness  and  humility.  I  could  en- 
tertain no  such  nonsense  as  this  ;  and  I  almost  lost 
my  patience  when  I  found  any  colored  man  weak 
enough  to  believe  such  stuff.  ]S"evertheless,  the  in- 
crease of  knowledge  was  attended  with  bitter,  as  well 
as  sweet  results.  The  more  I  read,  the  more  I  was 
led  to  abhor  and  detest  slavery,  and  my  enslavers. 
"  Slaveholders,"  thought  I,  "  are  only  a  band  of  sue 
cessful  robbers,  who  left  their  homes  and  went  into 
Africa  for  the  purpose  of  stealing  and  reducing  my 
people  to  slavery."  I  loathed  them  as  the  meanest 
and  the  most  wicked  of  men.  As  I  read,  behold  !  the 
very  discontent  so  graphically  predicted  by  Master 
Hugh,  had  already  come  upon  me.  I  was  no  longer 
the  light-hearted,  gleesome  boy,  full  of  mirth  and  play, 
as  when  I  landed  first  at  Baltimore.     Knowledge  had 


160  LIFE  AS   A  SLAVE. 

come ;  light  had  penetrated  the  moral  dungeon  where 
I  dwelt ;  and,  behold !  there  lay  the  bloody  whip,  for 
my  back,  and  here  was  the  iron  chain  ;  and  my  good, 
M7\d  master^  he  was  the  author  of  my  situation.  The 
revelation  haunted  me,  stung  me,  and  made  me 
gloomy  and  miserable.  As  I  writhed  under  the  sting 
and  torment  of  this  knowledge,  I  almost  envied  my 
fellow  slaves  their  stupid  contentment.  This  know- 
ledge opened  my  eyes  to  the  horrible  pit,  and  re- 
vealed the  teeth  of  the  frightful  dragon  that  was  ready 
to  pounce  upon  me,  but  it  opened  no  way  for  my  es- 
cape. I  have  often  wished  myself  a  beast,  or  a  bird — 
anything,  rather  than  a  slave.  I  was  wretched  and 
gloomy,  beyond  my  ability  to  describe.  I  was  too 
thoughtful  to  be  happy.  It  was  this  everlasting  think- 
ing which  distressed  and  tormented  me  ;  and  yet  there 
was  no  getting  rid  of  the  subject  of  my  thoughts.  All 
nature  was  redolent  of  it.  Once  awakened  by  the 
silver  trump  of  knowledge,  my  spirit  was  roused  to 
eternal  wakefulness.  Liberty !  the  inestimable  birth- 
right of  every  man,  had,  for  me,  converted  every  ob- 
ject into  an  asserter  of  this  great  right.  It  was  heard 
in  every  sound,  and  beheld  in  every  object.  It  was 
ever  present,  to  torment  me  with  a  sense  of  my  wret^l^ 
ed  condition.  The  more  beautiful  and  charming  were 
the  smiles  of  nature,  the  more  horrible  and  desolate 
was  my  condition.  I  saw  nothing  without  seeing  it, 
and  I  heard  nothing  without  hearing  it.  I  do  not  ex- 
aggerate, when  I  say,  that  it  looked  from  every  star, 
smiled  in  every  calm,  breathed  in  every  wind,  and 
moved  in  every  storm. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  my  state  of  mind  had  some- 


DISSATISFACTION  OF  1>1Y  POOR  MISTRESS.  161 

tiling  to  do  with  the  change  in  the  treatment  adopted, 
by  my  once  kind  mistress  toward  me.  I  can  easily 
believe,  that  my  leaden,  downcast,  and  discontented 
look,  was  very  offensive  to  her.  Poor  lady  !  She  did 
not  know  my  trouble,  and  I  dared  not  tell  her.  Conld 
I  have  freely  made  her  acquainted  with  the  real  state 
of  my  mind,  and  given  her  the  reasons  therefor,  it 
might  have  been  well  for  both  of  us.  Her  abuse  of 
me  fell  upon  me  like  the  blows  of  the  false  prophet 
upon  his  ass ;  she  did  not  know  that  an  angel  stood  in 
the  way ;  and — such  is  the  relation  of  master  and 
slave — I  could  not  tell  her.  I^ature  had  made  us 
fiiends',  slavery  made  us  enemies.  My  interests 
were  in  a  direction  opposite  to  hers,  and  we  both  had 
our  private  thoughts  and  plans.  She  aimed  to  keep 
me  ignorant ;  and  I  resolved  to  know,  although  know- 
ledge only  increased  my  discontent.  My  feelings  were 
not  the  resilt  of  any  marked  cruelty  in  the  treatment 
I  received  ;  they  sprung  from  the  consideration  of  my 
being  a  slave  at  all.  It  'W2i^  slavery — not  its  mere  in- 
cidents— that  I  hated.  I  had  been  cheated.  I  saw 
through  the  attempt  to  keej)  me  in  ignorance  ;  I  saw 
that  slaveholders  would  have  gladly  made  me  believe 
that  they  were  merely  acting  under  the  authority  of 
God,  in  making  a  slave  of  me,  and  in  making  slaves 
of  others ;  and  I  treated  them  as  robbers  and  deceiv- 
ers. The  feeding  and  clothing  me  well,  could  not 
atone  for  taking  my  liberty  from  me.  The  smiles  of 
my  mistress  could  not  remove  the  deep  sorrow  that 
dwelt  in  my  young  bosom.  Indeed,  these,  in  time, 
came  only  to  deepen  my  sorrow.  She  had  changed ; 
and  the  reader  wiU  see  that  I  had  changed,  too.     We 

11 


162  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

were  both  victims  to  the  same  overshadowing  evil — 
she^  as  mistress,  Z,  as  slave.  I  will  not  censure  her 
harshly  ;  she  cannot  censure  me,  for  she  knows  I  speak 
but  the  truth,  and  have  acted  in  my  opposition  to  slave- 
ry, just  as  she  herself  would  have  acted,  in  a  reverse 
of  circumstances. 


CHAPTEE  XIL 

RELIGIOUS  NATURE  AWAKENED. 

ABOLITIONISTS  SPOKEX  OP — MY  EAGERNESS  TO  KNO"W  WHAT  THIS  WORD 
MEANT MY  CONSULTATION  OF  THE  DICTIONARY INCENDIARY  INFORMA- 
TION  HOW    AND    WHERE    DERIVED THE     ENIGMA    SOLVED NATHANIEL 

turner's     INSURRECTION THE     CHOLERA RELIGION FIRST    AWAKENED 

BY    A    METHODIST     MINISTER,   NAMED    HANSON MY  DEAR  AND    GOOD  OLD 

COLORED     FRIEND,    LAWSON HIS    CHARACTER    AND    OCCLTATION HIS    IN- 
FLUENCE OVER  ME OUR  MUTUAL  ATTACHMENT THE  COMFORT  1  DERIVED 

FROM     HIS     TEACHING NEW  HOPES  AND  ASPIRATIONS HEAVENLY    LIGHT 

AMIDST  EARTHLY  DARKNESS THE  TWO  IRISHMEN  ON  THE  WHARF THEIR 

CONVERSATION HOW  I  LEARNED    TO  WRITE WHAT  WERE  MY  AIMS. 

"Whilst  in  the  painful  state  of  mind  described  in  the 
foregoing  chapter,  almost  regretting  my  very  exist- 
ence, because  doomed  to  a  life  of  bondage,  so  goaded 
and  so  wretched,  at  times,  that  I  was  even  tempted 
to  destroy  my  own  life,  I  was  yet  keenly  sensitive  and 
eager  to  know  any,  and  every  thing  that  transpired, 
having  any  relation  to  the  subject  of  slavery.  I 
was  all  ears,  all  eyes,  whenever  the  words  slave^  slave- 
ry^ dropped  from  the  lips  of  any  white  person,  and  the 
occasions  were  not  unfrequent  when  these  words  be- 
came leading  ones,  in  high,  social  debate,  at  our  house. 
Every  little  while,  I  could  overhear  Master  Hugh,  or 
some  of  his  company,  speaking  with  much  warmth 
and  excitement  about  "  abolitionists^''  Of  who  or 
what  these  were,  I  was  totally  ignorant.  I  found, 
however,  that  whatever  they  might  be,  they  were  most 


164  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

cordially  hated  and  soundly  abnsed  by  slaveholders, 
of  every  grade.  I  very  soon  discovered,  too,  that 
slavery  was,  in  some  sort,  under  consideration,  when- 
ever the  abolitionists  were  alluded  to.  This  made  the 
term  a  very  interesting  one  to  me.  If  a  slave,  for 
instance,  had  made  good  his  escape  from  slavery,  it 
was  generally  alleged,  that  he  had  been  persuaded 
and  assisted  by  the  abolitionists.  If,  also,  a  slave  killed 
his  master — as  v/as  sometimes  the  case — or  struck 
down  his  overseer,  or  set  fire  to  his  master's  dwelling, 
or  committed  any  violence  or  crime,  out  of  the  com- 
mon way,  it  was  certain  to  be  said,  that  such  a  crime 
was  the  legitimate  fruits  of  the  abolition  movement. 
Hearing  such  charges  often  repeated,  I,  naturally 
enough,  received  the  impression  that  abolition — 
whatever  else  it  might  be — could  not  be  unfriendly 
to  the  slave,  nor  very  friendly  to  the  slaveholder.  I 
therefore  set  about  finding  out,  if  possible,  %oho  and 
what  the  abolitionists  were,  and  v)lmj  they  were  so 
obnoxious  to  the  slaveholders.  The  dictionary  af- 
forded me  very  little  help.  It  taught  me  that  abo- 
lition was  the  "  act  of  abolishing ;"  but  it  left  me  in 
ignorance  at  the  very  point  where  I  most  wanted  in- 
formation— and  that  was,  as  to  the  tiling  io  be  abol- 
ished. A  city  newspaper,  the  "  Baltimore  American," 
gave  me  the  incendiary  information  denied  me  by  the 
dictionary.  In  its  columns  I  found,  that,  on  a  certain 
day,  a  vast  number  of  petitions  and  memorials  had 
been  presented  to  congress,  praying  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  and  for  the 
abolition  of  the  slave  trade  between  the  states  of  the 
Union.    This  was  enough.     The  vindictive  bitterness, 


"  abolitionists" THE   ENIGMA  SOLVED.  165 

tlie  marked  caution,  the  studied  reserve,  and  tlie  cum- 
brous ambiguity,  practiced  by  our  white  folks,  when 
allluding  to  this  s"iibject,  was  now  fully  ex^^lained. 
Ever,  after  that,  when  I  heard  the  w^ords  "  abolition," 
or  "  abolition  movement,"  mentioned,  I  felt  the  mat- 
ter one  of  a  personal  concern  ;  and  I  drew  near  to  lis- 
ten, when  I  could  do  so,  without  seeming  too  solicit- 
ous and  prying.  There  was  Hope  in  those  words. 
Ever  and  anon,  too,  I  could  see  some  terrible  denun- 
ciation of  slavery,  in  our  papers — copied  from  abo- 
lition papers  at  the  north, — and  the  injustice  of  such 
denunciation  commented  on.  These  I  read  w^ith 
avidity.  I  had  a  deep  satisfaction  in  the  thought,  that 
the  rascality  of  slaveholders  was  not  concealed  from 
the  eves  of  the  world,  and  that  I  was  not  alone  in  ab- 
horring  the  cruelty  and  brutality  of  slavery.  A  still 
deeper  train  of  thought  was  stirred.  I  saw  that  there 
was/*^<:«',  as  well  as  rage^  in  the  manner  of  speaking  of 
the  abolitionists.  The  latter,  therefore,  I  was  com- 
pelled to  regard  as  having  some  power  in  the  coun^ 
try  ;  and  I  felt  that  they  might,  possibly,  succeed  in 
their  designs.  When  I  met  with  a  slave  to  whom  I 
deemed  it  safe  to  talk  on  the  subject,  I  would  impart 
to  him  so  much  of  the  mystery  as  I  had  been  able  to 
penetrate.  Thus,  the  light  of  this  grand  movement 
broke  in  upon  my  mind,  by  degrees  ;  and  I  must  say, 
that,  ignorant  as  I  then  was  of  the  philosophy  of  that 
movement,  I  believed  in  it  from  the  first — and  I  be- 
lieved in  it,  partly,  because  I  saw  that  it  alarmed  the 
consciences  of  slaveholders.  The  insurrection  of  Na- 
thaniel Turner  had  been  quelled,  but  the  alarm  and 
terror  had  not  subsided.     The  cholera  was  on  its  way, 


166  LIFE  AS  A  SLATE. 

and  the  thought  was  present,  that  God  was  angry  with 
the  white  people  because  of  their  slaveholding  wick- 
edness, and,  therefore,  his  judgments  w^ere  abroad  in 
the  land.  It  was  impossible  for  me  not  to  hope  much 
from  the  abolition  movement,  when  I  saw  it  supported 
bj  the  Almighty,  and  armed  with  Death  ! 

Previous  to  my  contemplation  of  the  anti-slavery 
movement,  and  its  probable  results,  my  mind  had 
been  seriously  awakened  to  the  subject  of  religion.  I 
was  not  more  than  thirteen  years  old,  when  I  felt  the 
need  of  God,  as  a  father  and  protector.  My  religious 
nature  w^as  awakened  by  the  preaching  of  a  w^hite 
Methodist  minister,  named  Hanson.  Pie  thought 
that  all  men,  great  and  small,  bond  and  free,  were 
sinners  in  the  sight  of  God ;  that  they  were,  by  na- 
ture, rebels  against  His  government  5  and  that  they 
must  repent  of  their  sins,  and  be  reconciled  to  God, 
through  Christ.  I  cannot  say  that  I  had  a  very  dis- 
tinct notion  of  what  was  required  of  me  ;  but  one 
thing  I  knew  very  well — I  was  wretched,  and  had  no 
means  of  making  myself  otherwise.  Moreover,  I 
knew  that  I  could  pray  for  light.  I  consulted  a  good 
colored  man,  named  Charles  Johnson  ;  and,  in  tones 
of  holy  afiection,  he  told  me  to  pray,  and  what  to 
pray  for.  I  was,  for  weeks,  a  poor,  broken-hearted 
mourner,  traveling  through  the  darkness  and  misery 
of  doubts  and  fears.  I  finally  found  that  change  of 
heart  which  comes  by  "  casting  all  one's  care  "  upon 
God,  and  by  having  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  Re- 
deemer, Friend,  and  Savior  of  those  who  diligently 
seek  Him. 

After  this,  I  saw  the  world  in  a  new  light.     I 


FATHER  LAWSON OUR  ATTACHMENT.  167 

seemed  to  live  in  a  new  world,  surrounded  by  new 
objects,  and  to  be  animated  by  new  hopes  and  de- 
sires. I  loved  all  mankind — slaveholders  not  ex- 
cepted ;  though  'I  abhorred  slavery  more  than  ever. 
My  great  concern  was,  now,  to  have  the  world  con- 
verted. The  desire  for  knov/ledge  increased,  and  es- 
pecially did  I  want  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the 
contents  of  the  bible.  I  have  gathered  scattered  pa- 
ges from  this  holy  book,  from  the  filthy  street  gutters 
of  Baltimore,  and  washed  and  dried  them,  that  in 
the  moments  of  my  leisure,  I  might  get  a  word  or 
two  of  wisdom  from  them.  While  thus  religiously 
seeking  knowledge,  I  became  acquainted  with  a  good 
old  colored  man,  named  Lawson.  A  more  devout 
man  than  he,  I  never  saw.  He  drove  a  dray  for  Mr. 
James  Kamsey,  the  owner  of  a  rope- walk  on  Fell's 
Point,  Baltimore.  This  man  not  only  prayed  three 
times  a  day,  but  he  prayed  as  he  walked  thi'ough  the 
streets,  at  his  work — on  his  dray — everywhere.  His 
life  was  a  life  of  prayer,  and  his  words,  (when  he 
spoke  to  his  friends,)  were  about  a  better  world. 
Uncle  Lawson  lived  near  Master  Hugh's  house  ;  and, 
becoming  deeply  attached  to  the  old  man,  I  went  of- 
ten with  him  to  prayer-meeting,  and  spent  much  of 
my  leisure  time  with  him  on  Sunday.  The  old  man 
could  read  a  little,  and  I  was  a  great  help  to  him,  in 
making  out  the  hard  words,  for  I  was  a  better  reader 
than  he.  I  could  teach  him  "  the  letter ^"^  but  he  could 
teach  me  "  tlie  S]?irit  /  "  and  high,  refreshing  times  wo 
had  together,  in  singing,  praying  and  glorifying  God. 
These  meetings  with  Uncle  Lawson  went  on  for  a 
long  time,  without  the  knowledge  of  Master  Hugh  or 


168  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

my  mistress.  Botli  knew,  however,  that  I  had  be- 
come religions,  and  they  seemed  to  respect  my  con- 
scientious piety.  My  mistress  was  still  a  professor  of 
religion,  and  belonged  to  class.  Her  leader  was  no 
less  a  person  than  the  Rev.  Beverly  Wangh,  the  pre- 
siding elder,  and  now  one  of  the  bisho]3s  of  the  Meth- 
odist Episcopal  church.  Mr.  Wangh  was  then  sta- 
tioned over  Wilk  street  church.  I  am  careful  to  state 
these  facts,  that  the  reader  may  be  able  to  form  an 
idea  of  the  precise  influences  which  had  to  do  with 
shaping  and  directing  my  mind. 

In  view  of  the  cares  and  anxieties  incident  to  the 
life  she  was  then  leading,  and,  especially,  in  view  of 
the  separation  from  religious  associations  to  which  she 
was  subjected,  my  mistress  had,  as  I  have  before  sta- 
ted, become  lukewarm,  and  needed  to  be  looked  up 
by  her  leader.  This  brought  Mr.  Waugh  to  our  house, 
and  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  hear  him  exhort  and 
pray.  But  my  chief  instructor,  in  matters  of  religion, 
was  Uncle  Lawson.  He  was  my  spiritual  father ; 
and  I  loved  him  intensely,  and  was  at  his  house  ev- 
ery chance  I  got. 

This  pleasure  was  not  long  allowed  me.  Master 
Hugh  became  averse  to  my  going  to  Father  Lawson's, 
and  threatened  to  whij^  me  if  I  ever  went  there  again. 
I  now  felt  myself  persecuted  by  a  wicked  man ;  and 
I  would  go  to  Father  Lawson's,  notwithstanding  the 
threat.  The  good  old  man  had  told  me,  that  the 
"Lord  had  a  great  work  for  me  to  do  ;  "  and  I  must 
prepare  to  do  it ;  and  that  he  had  been  shown  that  I 
must  preach  the  gospel.  His  words  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  my  mind,  and  I  verily  felt  that  some  such 


THE  TWO  IRISHMEN  ON  THE   WHARF.  1G9 

work  was  before  me,  thougli  I  could  not  see  how  I 
should  ever  engage  in  its  performance.  "  The  good 
Lord,"  he  said,  "  wonld  bring  it  to  pass  in  his  own 
good  time,"  and  that  I  must  go  on  reading  and  study- 
ing the  scriptures.  The  advice  and  the  suggestions 
of  Uncle  Lawson,  were  not  without  their  influence 
upon  my  character  and  destiny.  He  threw  my 
thoughts  into  a  channel  from  which  they  have  never 
entirely  diverged.  He  fanned  my  already  intense 
love  of  knowledge  into  a  flame,  by  assuring  me  that 
I  was  to  be  a  useful  man  in  the  world.  When  I  would 
say  to  him,  "  How  can  these  things  be — and  what  can 
Zdo  ?  "  his  simple  reply  was,  "  Trust  in  the  LordP 
When  I  told  him  that  "I  was  a  slave,  and  a  slave  for 
LIFE,"  he  said,  "  the  Lord  can  make  you  free,  my 
dear.  All  things  are  possible  with  him,  only  have 
faith  ill  GodP  "Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given."  "  If 
you  want  liberty,"  said  the  good  old  man,  "  ask  the 
Lord  for  it,  infaith^  and  he  will  give  it  to  you." 

Thus  assured,  and  cheered  on,  under  the  inspira- 
tion of  hope,  I  worked  and  prayed  with  a  light  heart, 
believing  that  my  life  was  under  the  guidance  of  a 
wisdom  higher  than  my  own.  With  all  other  bless- 
ings sought  at  the  mercy  seat,  I  always  prayed  that 
God  would,  of  His  great  mercy,  and  in  His  own  good 
time,  deliver  me  from  my  bondage. 

I  went,  one  day,  on  the  wharf  of  Mr.  Waters  ;  and 
seeing  two  Irishmen  unloading  a  large  scow  of  stone, 
or  ballast,  I  went  on  board,  unasked,  and  helped  them. 
When  we  had  finished  the  work,  one  of  the  men 
came  to  me,  aside,  and  asked  me  a  number  of  ques- 
tions, and  among  them,  if  I  were  a  slave.  I  told  him 
H 


170  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

"  I  was  a  slave,  and  a  slave  for  life."  The  good  Irish- 
man gave  his  shoulders  a  shrug,  and  seemed  deeply 
aiFected  by  the  statement.  He  said,  "  it  wms  a  pity 
so  line  a  little  fellow  as  myself  should  be  a  slave  for 
life."  They  both  had  much  to  say  about  the  matter, 
and  expressed  the  deepest  sympathy  with  me,  and  the 
most  decided  hatred  of  slavery.  They  went  so  far  as 
to  tell  me  that  I  ought  to  run  away,  and  go  to  the 
north  ;  that  I  should  find  friends  there,  and  that  I 
would  be  as  free  as  anybody.  I,  however,  pretended 
not  to  be  interested  in  what  they  said,  for  I  feared 
they  might  be  treacherous.  White  men  have  been 
known  to  encourage  slaves  to  escape,  and  then — to 
get  the  reward — they  have  kidnapped  them,  and  re- 
turned them  to  their  niasters.  And  while  I  mainly 
inclined  to  the  notion  that  these  men  were  honest  and 
meant  me  no  ill,  I  feared  it  might  be  otherwise.  I 
nevertheless  remembered  their  words  and  their  ad- 
vice, and  looked  forward  to  an  escape  to  the  north, 
as  a  possible  means  of  gaining  the  liberty  for  which 
my  heart  panted.  It  was  not  my  enslavement,  at  the 
then  present  time,  that  most  affected  me  ;  the  being  a 
slave  for  life,  was  the  saddest  thouglit.  I  was  too 
young  to  think  of  running  away  immediately;  be- 
sides, I  wished  to  learn  how  to  write,  before  going,  as 
I  might  have  occasion  to  write  my  own  pass.  I  now 
not  only  had  the  hope  of  freedom,  but  a  foreshadow- 
ing of  the  means  by  which  I  might,  some  day,  gain 
that  inestimable  boon.  Meanwhile,  I  resolved  to  add 
to  my  educational  attainments  the  art  of  writing. 

After  this  manner  I  began  to  learn  to  write  :  I  was 
much  in  the  ship  yard — Master  Hugh's,  and  that  of 


HOW  I  LEAENED  TO  WRITE.  171 

Durgan  ^  Bailey — and  I  observed  that  the  carpen- 
ters, after  hewing  and  getting  a  piece  of  timber  ready 
for  use,  wrote  on  it  the  initials  of  the  name  of  that 
part  of  the  ship  for  which  it  was  intended.  When, 
for  instance,  a  piece  of  timber  was  ready  for  the  star- 
board side,  it  was  marked  with  a  capital  "  S."  A 
piece  for  the  larboard  side  was  marked  "  L ; "  lar- 
board forward,  "  L.  F. ; "  larboard  aft,  was  marked 
"  L.  A. ; "  starboard  aft,  "  S.  A. ;  "  and  starboard  for- 
ward "  S.  F."  I  soon  learned  these  letters,  and  for 
what  they  were  placed  on  the  timbers^ 

My  work  was  now,  to  keep  fire  under  the  steam 
box,  and  to  watch  the  ship  yard  while  the  carpenters 
had  gone  to  dinner.  This  interval  gave  me  a  fine  op- 
portunity for  copying  the  letters  named.  I  soon  as- 
tonished myself  with  the  ease  with  which  I  made  the 
letters  ;  and  the  thought  was  soon  present,  "if  I  can 
make  four,  I  can  make  more."  But  having  made 
these  easily,  when  I  met  boys  about  Bethel  church, 
or  any  of  our  play-grounds,  I  entered  the  lists  with 
them  in  the  art  of  writing,  and  would  make  the  let- 
ters which  I  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  learn,  and 
ask  them  to  "beat  that  if  they  could."  With  play- 
mates for  my  teachers,  fences  and  pavements  for  my 
copy  books,  and  chalk  for  my  pen  and  ink,  I  learned 
the  art  of  writing.  I,  however,  afterward  adopted 
various  methods  of  improving  my  hand.  The  most 
successful,  was  copying  the  italics  in  Webster's  spell- 
ing book,  until  I  could  make  them  all  without  look- 
ing on  the  book.  By  this  time,  my  little  "  Master 
Tommy  "  had  grown  to  be  a  big  boy,  and  had  written 
pver  a  number  of   copy  books,  and   brought  them 


lT2  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

home.  They  had  been  shown  to  the  neighhors,  had 
elicited  due  praise,  and  were  now  laid  carefully  away. 
Spending  my  time  between  the  ship  yard  and  house, 
I  w^as  as  often  the  lone  keeper  of  the  latter  as  of  the 
former.  When  my  mistress  left  me  in  charge  of  the 
house,  I  had  a  grand  time ;  I  got  Master  Tommy's 
copy  books  and  a  pen  and  ink,  and,  in  the  ample  spa- 
ces between  the  lines,  I  wrote  other  lines,  as  nearly 
like  his  as  possible.  The  process  was  a  tedious  one. 
and  I  ran  the  risk  of  getting  a  flogging  for  marring 
the  highly  prized  copy  books  of  the  oldest  son.  In 
addition  to  these  oj)portunities,  sleeping,  as  I  did,  in 
the  kitchen  loft — a  room  seldom  visited  by  any  of  the 
family, — I  got  a  flour  barrel  np  there,  and  a  chair ; 
and  upon  the  head  of  that  barrel  I  have  written,  (or 
endeavored  to  write,)  copying  from  the  bible  and  the 
Methodist  hymn  book,  and  other  books  which  had 
accumulated  on  my  hands,  till  late  at  night,  and  wdien 
all  the  family  were  in  bed  and  asleep.  I  was  sup- 
ported in  my  endeavors  by  renewed  advice,  and  by 
holy  promises  from  the  good  Father  Lawson,  with 
whom  I  continued  to  meet,  and  pray,  and  read  the 
scriptures.  Although  Master  Hugh  was  aware  of 
my  going  there,  I  must  say,  for  his  credit,  that  he 
never  executed  his  threat  to  whip  me,  for  having  thus, 
innocently,  employed  my  leisure  time. 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

THE  VICISSITUDES  OF  SLAVE  LIFE. 

DEATU  OF  OLD  MASTER's  SON  RICHARD,   SPEEDILY  FOLLOWED  BY  THAT  OF  OLD 

MASTER VALUATION  AND  DIVISION  OF  ALL  THE  PROPERTY,  INCLUDING  THE 

SLAVES MY  PRESENCE  REQUIRED  AT  HILLSBOROUGH  TO  BE  APPRAISED  AND 

ALLOTTED  TO  A  NEW  OWNER MY  SAD  PROSPECTS  AND  GRIEF PARTING 

THE  UTTER  POWERLESSNESS  OF  THE    SLAVES  TO  DECIDE    THEIR    OWN  DES- 
TINY  A    GENERAL    DREAD    OF    MASTER    ANDREW HIS    WICKEDNESS    AND 

CRUELTY MISS  LUCRETIA  MY  NEW  OWNER MY  RETURN  TO  BALTIMORE 

JOY    UNDER  THE    ROOF    OF   MASTER    HUGH DEATH    OF    MRS.     LUCRETIA 

MY  POOR    OLD  GRANDMOTHER HER    SAD    FATE THE    LONE    COT    IN    THE 

WOODS MASTER    THOMAS    AULD's     SECOND    MARRIAGE AGAIN    REMOVED 

FROM    MASTER   HUGh's REASONS  FOR  REGRETTING  THE  CHANGE A  PLAN 

OF  ESCAPE    ENTERTAINED. 

I  MUST  now  ask  the  reader  to  go  with  me  a  little  back 
in  point  of  time,  in  my  humble  story,  and  to  notice 
another  circumstance  that  entered  into  my  slavery 
experience,  and  which,  doubtless,  has  had  a  share  in 
deepening  my  horror  of  slavery,  and  increasing  my 
hostility  toward  those  men  and  measures  that  practi- 
cally uphold  the  slave  system. 

It  has  already  been  observed,  that  though  I  was, 
after  my  removal  from  Col.  Lloyd's  plantation,  in 
form  the  slave  of  Master  Hugh,  I  was,  in  fact^  and 
in  law^  the  slave  of  my  old  master,  Capt.  Anthony. 
"Very  well. 

In  a  very  short  time  after  I  went  to  Baltimore,  my 
old   master's  youngest   son,  Eichard,  died ;  and,  in 


174  LIFE  AS  A  SLAYE. 

three  years  and  six  months  after  his  death,  my  old 
master  himself  died,  leaving  only  his  son,  Andrew, 
and  his  daughter,  Lucretia,  to  share  his  estate.  The 
old  man  died  while  on  a  visit  to  his  daughter,  in 
Hillsborough,  v/here  Capt.  Auld  and  Mrs.  Lucretia 
now  lived.  The  former,  having  given  np  the  com- 
mand of  Col.  Lloyd's  sloop,  was  now  keeping  a  store 
in  that  town. 

Cut  off,  thus  unexpectedly,  Capt.  Anthony  died  in- 
testate ;  and  his  property  must  now  be  equaily  divi- 
ded between  his  two  children,  Andrew  and  Lucretia. 

The  valuation  and  the  division  of  slaves,  among 
contending  heirs,  is  an  important  incident  in  slave 
life.  The  character  and  tendencies  of  the  heirs,  are 
generally  well  understood  among  the  slaves  who  are 
to  be  divided,  and  all  have  their  aversions  and  pref- 
erences. But,  neither  their  aversions  nor  their  pref- 
erences avail  them  anything. 

On  the  death  of  old  master,  I  was  immediately  sent 
for,  to  be  valued  and  divided  with  the  other  property. 
Personally,  my  concern  was,  mainly,  about  my  pos- 
sible removal  from  the  home  of  Master  Hugh,  which, 
after  that  of  my  grandmother,  was  the  most  endeared 
to  me.  But,  the  whole  thing,  as  a  feature  of  slavery, 
shocked  me.  It  furnished  me  a  new  insight  into  the 
unnatural  power  to  which  I  was  subjected.  My  de- 
testation of  slavery,  already  great,  rose  with  this  new 
conception  of  its  enormity. 

That  was  a  sad  day  for  me,  a  sad  day  for  little  Tom- 
my, and  a  sad  day  for  my  dear  Baltimore  mistress  and 
teacher,  when  I  left  for  the  Eastern  Shore,  to  be  val- 
ued and  divided.     We,  all  three,  wept  bitterly  that 


DIVISION  OF  OLD  MASTER^S  PROPERTY.  175 

day  ;  for  we  might  be  parting,  and  we  feared  we  were 
parting,  forever.     No  one  could  tell  among  which  pile 
of  chattels  I  should  be  flung.   Thus  early,  I  got  a  fore- 
taste of  that  painful  uncertainty  which  slavery  brings 
to  the  ordinary  lot  of  mortals.     Sickness,   adversity 
and  death  may  interfere  with  the  plans  and  purposes 
of  all ;  but  the  slave  has  the  added  danger  of  changing 
homes,  changing  hands,  and  of  having   separations 
unknown  to  other  men.     Then,  too,  there  was  the  in- 
tensified degradation  of  the  spectacle.     What  an  as- 
semblage !     Men  and  women,  young  and  old,  mar- 
ried and  single  ;  moral  and  intellectual  beings,  in  open 
contempt  of  their  humanity,  leveled  at  a  blow  with 
horses,  sheep,  horned  cattle  and  swine !     Horses  and  • 
men — cattle  and  women — pigs  and  children — all  hold-\ 
ing  the  same  rank  in  the  scale  of  social  existence  ^ 
and  all  subjected  to  the  same  narrow  inspection,  to 
ascertain  their  value  in  gold  and  silver — the  only 
standard  of  worth  applied  by  slaveholders  to  slaves  I 
How  vividly,   at  that  moment,  did  the  brutalizing 
power  of  slavery  flash  before  me  !     Personality  swal-')  ^ 
lowed  up  in  the  sordid  idea  of  property  !     Manhood  ^ 
lost  in  chattelhood ! 

After  the  valuation,  then  came  the  division.  This 
was  an  hour  of  high  excitement  and  distressing  anxi- 
ety. Our  destiny  was  now  to  be  fixed  for  life^  and 
we  had  no  more  voice  in  the  decision  of  the  question, 
than  the  oxen  and  cows  that  stood  chewing  at  the  hay- 
mow. One  word  from  the  appraisers,  against  all  pref- 
erences or  prayers,  was  enough  to  sunder  all  the  ties 
of  friendship  and  afi'ection,  and  even  to  separate  hus- 
bands and  wives,  parents  and  children.     We  were  all 


176  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

ajDpalled  before  that  j)Ower,  wliicli,  to  human  seem^ 
iiig,  could  bless  or  blast  us  in  a  moment.  Added  to 
the  dread  of  se|)aration,  most  painful  to  the  majority 
of  the  slaves,  we  all  had  a  decided  horror  of  the 
thought  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  Master  Andrew. 
He  was  distinguished  for  cruelty  and  intemperance. 

Slaves  generally  dread  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
drunken  owners.  Master  Andrew  was  almost  a  con- 
firmed sot,  and  had  already,  by  his  reckless  misman- 
agement and  profligate  dissipation,  wasted  a  large 
portion  of  old  master's  property.  To  fall  into  his 
hands,  was,  therefore,  considered  merely  as  the  first 
step  toward  being  sold  away  to  the  far  south.  He 
would  spend  his  fortune  in  a  few  years,  and  his  farms 
and  slaves  would  be  sold,  we  thought,  at  public  out- 
cry ;  and  we  should  be  hurried  away  to  the  cotton 
fields,  and  rice  swamps,  of  the  sunny  south.  This 
was  the  cause  of  deep  consternation. 

The  people  of  the  north,  and  free  people  generally, 
I  think,  have  less  attachment  to  the  places  where  they 
are  born  and  brought  up,  than  have  the  slaves.  Their 
freedom  to  go  and  come,  to  be  here  and  there,  as  they 
list,  prevents  any  extravagant  attachment  to  any  one 
particular  place,  in  their  case.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  slave  is  a  fixture  ;  he  has  no  choice,  no  goal,  no 
destination ;  but  is  pegged  down  to  a  single  spot,  and 
must  take  root  here,  or  nowhere.  The  idea  of  remo- 
val elsewhere,  comes,  generally,  in  the  shape  of  a 
threat,  and  in  punishment  of  crime.  It  is,  therefore, 
attended  with  fear  and  dread.  A  slave  seldom  thinks 
of  bettering  his  condition  by  being  sold,  and  hence 
he  looks  upon  separation  from  his  native  place,  with 


MY  SAD  PEOSPECTS  AM)  GRIEF.  177 

none  of  the  enthusiasm  which  animates  the  bosoms 
of  young  freemen,  when  they  contemplate  a  life  in 
the  far  west,  or  in  some  distant  country  where  they 
intend  to  rise  to  wealth  and  distinction.  Kor  can  those 
from  whom  they  separate,  give  them  up  with  that 
cheerfulness  with  which  friends  and  relations  yield 
each  other  up,  when  they  feel  that  it  is  for  the  good 
of  the  departing  one  that  he  is  removed  from  his  na- 
tive place.  Then,  too,  there  is  correspondence,  and 
there  is,  at  least,  the  hope  of  reiinion,  because  reiinion 
is  possible.  But,  with  the  slave,  all  these  mitigating 
circumstances  are  wanting.  There  is  no  improvement 
in  his  cowdiitioTL  2yrobable^ — no  correspondence  ^j>c<552&Z^, 
— no  reiinion  attainable.  His  going  out  into  the 
world,  is  like  a  living  man  going  into  the  tomb,  who, 
with  open  eyes,  sees  himself  buried  out  of  sight  and 
hearing  of  wife,  children  and  friends  of  kindred  tie. 
In  contemplating  the  likelihoods  and  possibilities 
of  our  circumstances,  I  probably  suffered  more  than 
most  of  my  fellow  servants.  I  had  known  what  it 
was  to  experience  kind,  and  even  tender  treatment ; 
they  had  known  nothing  of  the  sort.  Life,  to  them, 
had  been  rough  and  thorny,  as  well  as  dark.  They 
had — most  of  them — lived  on  my  old  master's  farm  in 
Tuckahoe,  and  had  felt  the  reign  of  Mr.  Plummer's 
rule.  The  overseer  had  written  his  character  on  the 
living  parchment  of  most  of  their  backs,  and  left  them 
callous ;  my  back  (thanks  to  my  early  removal  from 
the  plantation  to  Baltimore,)  was  yet  tender.  I  had 
left  a  kind  mistress  at  Baltimore,  who  was  almost  a 
mother  to  me.  She  was  in  tears  when  we  parted,  and 
the  probabilities  of  ever  seeing  her  again,  trembling 
H*  12  ' 


178  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

in  the  balance  as  they  did,  could  not  be  viewed  with- 
out alarm  and  agony.  The  thought  of  leaving  that 
kind  mistress  forever,  and,  worse  still,  of  being  the 
slave  of  Andrew  Anthony — a  man  who,  but  a  few 
days  before  the  division  of  the  property,  had,  in  my 
presence,  seized  my  brother  Perr}^  by  the  throat, 
dashed  him  on  the  ground,  and  with  the  heel  of  his 
boot  stamped  him  on  the  head,  until  the  blood  gushed 
from  his  nose  and  ears — was  terrible  !  This  fiendish 
proceeding  had  no  better  apology  than  the  fact,  that 
Perry  had  gone  to  play,  when  Master  Andrew  wanted 
him  for  some  trifling  service.  This  cruelty,  too,  was 
of  a  piece  with  his  general  character.  After  inflict- 
ing his  heavy  blows  on  my  brother,  on  observing  me 
looking  at  him  with  intense  astonishment,  he  said, 
"  That  is  the  way  I  will  serve  you,  one  of  these  days ; " 
meaning,  no  doubt,  when  I  should  come  into  his  pos- 
session. This  threat,  the  reader  may  well  suppose, 
was  not  very  tranquilizing  to  my  feelings.  I  could 
see  that  he  really  thirsted  to  get  hold  of  me.  But  I 
was  there  only  for  a  few  days.  I  had  not  received 
any  orders,  and  had  violated  none,  and  there  was, 
therefore,  no  excuse  for  floo-aino;  me. 

At  last,  the  anxiety  and  suspense  were  ended ;  and 
they  ended,  thanks  to  a  kind  Providence,  in  accord- 
ance with  my  wishes.  I  fell  to  the  portion  of  Mrs. 
Lucretia — the  dear  lady  who  bound  up  my  head,  when 
the  savage  Aunt  Katy  was  adding  to  my  sufferings 
her  bitterest  maledictions. 

Capt.  Thomas  Auld  and  Mrs.  Lucretia  at  once  de- 
cided on  my  return  to  Baltimore.  They  knew  how 
sincerely  and  warmly  Mrs.  Hugh  Auld  was  attached 


DEATH   OF  IklBS.  LUCRETIA.  179 

to  me,  and  how  delighted  Mr.  Hugh's  son  woiikl  be 
to  have  me  back  ;  and,  withal,  having  no  immediate 
use  for  one  so  young,  they  willingly  let  me  off  to 
Baltimore. 

I  need  not  stop  here  to  narrate  my  joy  on  returning 
to  Baltimore,  nor  that  of  little  Tommy  ;  nor  the  tearful 
joy  of  his  mother;  nor  the  evident  satisfaction  of 
Master  Hugh.  I  was  just  one  month  absent  from 
Baltimore,  before  the  matter  was  decided ;  and  the 
time  really  seemed  full  six  months. 

One  trouble  over,  and  on  comes  another.  The 
slave's  life  is  full  of  uncertainty.  I  had  returned  to 
Baltimore  but  a  short  time,  when  the  tidings  reached 
me,  that  my  kind  friend,  Mrs.  Lucretia,  who  was  only 
second  in  my  regard  to  Mrs.  Hugh  Auld,  was  dead, 
leaving  her  husband  and  only  one  child — a  daughter, 
named  Amanda. 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  Mrs.  Lucretia,  strange  to 
say,  Master  Andrew  died,  leaving  his  wife  and  one 
child.  Thus,  the  whole  family  of  Anthonys  was 
swept  away  ;  only  two  children  remained.  All  this 
happened  within  five  years  of  my  leaving  Col.  Lloyd's. 

No  alteration  took  place  in  the  condition  of  the 
slaves,  in  consequence  of  these  deaths,  yet  I  could  not 
help  feeling  less  secure,  after  the  death  of  my  friend, 
Mrs.  Lucretia,  than  1  had  done  during  her  life.  While 
she  lived,  I  felt  that  I  had  a  strong  friend  to  plead  for 
me  in  any  emergency.  Ten  years  ago,  while  speak- 
ing of  the  state  of  things  in  our  family,  after  the 
events  just  named,  I  used  this  language  : 

"  Now  all  the  property  of  my  old  master,  slaves  included, 


180  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

was  in  the  hands  of  stransjers — stranirers  who  had  nothing- fo 
do  in  accumulating  it.     Not  a  slave  was  left  free.     All  re- 
mained slaves,  from  the  youngest  to  the  oldest.     If  any  one 
thing  in  my  experience,  more  than  another,  served  to  deepen 
my  conviction  of  the  mfemal  character  of  slavery,  and  to  fill 
me  with  unutterable  loathing  of  slaveholders,  it  was  their  base 
ingratitude  to  my  poor  old  grandmother.     She  had  served  my 
old  master  faithfully  from  youth  to   old  age.     She  had  been 
the  source  of  all  his  w^ealth ;  she  had  peopled  his  plantation 
with  slaves ;  she  had  become  a  great-grandmother  in  his  ser- 
vice.    She  had  rocked  him  in  infancy,  attended  him  in  child- 
hood, served  him  tlirough  life,  and  at  his  death  wiped  from  his 
icy  brow  the  cold  death-sweat,  and  closed  his  eyes  forever.  She 
was  nevertheless  left  a  slave — a  slave  for  life — a  slave  in  the 
hands  of  strangers ;  and  in  their  hands  she  saw  her  children, 
her  grandchildren,  and  her  great-grandchildren,  divided,  like  so 
many  sheep,  without  being  gratified  with  the  small  privilege 
of  a  single  word,  as  to  their  or  her  own  destiny.     And,  to  cap 
the  climax  of  their  base  ingratitude  and  fiendish  barbarity,  my 
grandmother,  who  was  now  very  old,  having  outlived  my  old 
miaster  and  all  his  children,  having  seen  the  beginning  and  end 
of  all  of  them,  and  her  present  owners  finding  she  was  of  but 
little  value,  her  frame    already  racked  with  the  pains  of  old 
age,  and  complete  helplessness  fast  stealing  over  her  once  ac- 
tive limbs,  they  took  her  to  the  woods,  built  her  a  little  hut, 
put  up  a  little  mud-chimney,  and  then  made  her  welcome  to 
the  privilege  of  supporting  herself  there  in  perfect  loneliness ; 
thus  virtually  turning  her  out  to  die  !     If  my  poor  old  grand- 
mother now  lives,  she  lives  to  suflTer  in  utter  loneliness;  she 
lives  to  remember  and  mourn  over  the  loss  of  children,  the 
loss  of  grandchildren,  and  the  loss  of  great-grandchildren.    They 
are,  in  tlie  language  of  the  slave's  poet,  Whittier, — 


AGAIN   REMOVED   FROM   MASTER  HTJGh's.  181 

*Gone,  gone,  sold  and  gone, 
To  the  rice  swamp  dank  and  lone, 
"Where  the  siave-whip  ceaseless  swings, 
"Where  the  noisome  insect  stings, 
"Where  the  fever-demon  strews 
Poison  with  the  falling  dews, 
Where  the  sickly  sunbeams  glare 
Through  the  hot  and  misty  air: — 

Gone,  gone,  sold  and  gone 
To  the  rice  swamp  dank  and  lone. 
From  Virginia  hills  and  waters — 
"Woe  is  me,  my  stolen  daughters ! ' 

"The  hearth  is  desolate.  The  children,  the  unconscious 
children,  who  once  sang  and  danced  in  her  presence,  are  gone. 
She  gropes  her  way,  in  the  darkness  of  age,  for  a  drink  of 
water.  Instead  of  the  voices  of  her  children,  she  hears  by  day 
the  moans  of  the  dove,  and  by  night  the  screams  of  the  hideous 
owl.  All  is  gloom.  The  grave  is  at  the  door.  And  now, 
when  weighed  down  by  the  pains  and  aches  of  old  age,  when 
the  head  inclines  to  the  feet,  when  the  beginning  and  ending 
of  human  existence  meet,  and  helpless  infancy  and  painful  old 
age  combine  together — at  this  time,  this  most  needful  time, 
the  time  for  the  exercise  of  that  tenderness  and  affection  which 
children  only  can  exercise  toward  a  declining  parent — my 
poor  old  grandmother,  the  devoted  mother  of  twelve  children, 
is  left  all  alone,  in  yonder  little  hut,  before  a  few  dim  embers." 

Two  years  after  tlie  death  of  Mrs.  Lucretia,  Master 
Thomas  married  his  second  wife.  Her  name  was 
Kowena  Hamilton,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Hamilton,  a  rich  slaveholder  on  the  Eastern 
Shore  of  Maryland,  who  lived  about  five  miles  from 
St.  Michael's,  the  then  place  of  my  master's  residence. 

JSTot  long  after  his  marriage,  Master  Thomas  had  a 


182  LIFE  AS  A  SLAYE. 

misunderstanding  with  Master  Hugh,  and,  as  a  means 
of  punishing  his  brother,  he  ordered  him  to  send  me 
home. 

As  the  ground  of  misunderstanding  will  serve  to 
illustrate  the  character  of  southern  chivahy,  and  hu- 
manity, I  will  relate  it. 

Among  the  children  of  my  Aunt  Milly,  was  a  daugh- 
ter, named  Henny.  When  quite  a  child,  Henny  had 
fallen  into  the  fire,  and  had  burnt  her  hands  so  bad 
that  they  were  of  very  little  use  to  her.  Her  fingers 
were  drawn  almost  into  the  palms  of  her  hands.  She 
could  make  out  to  do  something,  but  she  was  consid- 
ered hardly  worth  the  having — of  little  more  value 
than  a  horse  v/ith  a  broken  leg.  This  unprofitable 
piece  of  human  property,  ill  shapen,  and  disfigured, 
Capt.  Auld  sent  off  to  Baltimore,  making  his  brother 
Hugh  welcome  to  her  services. 

After  giving  poor  Henny  a  fair  trial,  Master  Hugh 
and  his  wife  came  to  the  conclusion,  that  they  had  no 
use  for  the  crippled  servant,  and  they  sent  her  back  to 
Master  Thomas.  This,  the  latter  took  as  an  act  of 
ingratitude,  on  the  part  of  his  brother ;  and,  as  a  mark 
of  his  displeasure,  he  required  him  to  send  me  imme- 
diately to  St.  Michael's,  saying,  if  he  cannot  keep 
"^en,"  he  shall  not  have  '''' Fred^ 

Here  was  another  shock  to  my  nerves,  another 
breaking  up  of  my  plans,  and  another  severance  of 
my  religious  and  social  alliances.  I  was  now  a  big 
boy.  I  had  become  quite  useful  to  several  young 
colored  men,  who  had  made  me  their  teacher.  I  had 
taught  some  of  them  to  read,  and  was  accustomed  to 
spend  many  of  my  leisure  hours  with  them.     Our  at- 


REASONS   FOK   EEGEETTING  THE  CHANGE.  18S 

tacliment  was  strong,  and  I  greatly  dreaded  tlie  sep- 
aration.    But  regrets,  especially  in  a  slave,  are  una- 
vailing.    I  was   only  a  slave ;   my  wishes  were  no- 
thing, and  my  happiness  was  the  sport  of  my  masters. 
My  regrets  at  now  leaving  Baltimore,  were  not  for 
the  same  reasons  as  when  I  before  left  that  city,  to  be 
valued  and  handed  over  to  my  proj)er   owner.     My 
home  was  not  now  the  pleasant  place  it  had  formerly 
been.     A  change  had  taken   place,  both  in  Master 
Hugh,  and  in  his  once  pious  and  affectionate  wife. 
The  influence  of  brandy  and  bad  company  on  him, 
and  the  influence  of  slavery  and  social  isolation  upon 
her,  had  wrought  disastrously  upon  the  characters  of 
both.     Thomas  was  no  longer   "  little  Tommy,"  but 
was  a  big  boy,  and  had  learned  to  assume  the  airs  of 
his  class  toward  me.     My  condition,  therefore,  in  the 
house  of  Master  Hugh,  was  not,  by  any  means,  so 
comfortable  as   in  former   years.      My  attachments 
were  now  outside  of  our  family.     They  were  felt  to 
those  to  whom  I  imjparted  instruction,  and  to  those 
little  white   boys  from  whom  I  received  instruction. 
There,  too,  was  my  dear  old  father,  the  pious  Law- 
son,  who  was,  in  christian  graces,  the  very  counter- 
part of  "  Uncle"  Tom.     The  resemblance  is  so  perfect, 
that  he  might  have  been  the  original  of  Mrs.  Stowe's 
christian  hero.     The  thought  of  leaving  these  dear 
friends,  greatly  troubled  me,  for  I  was  going  without 
the  hope  of  ever  returning  to  Baltimore  again ;  the 
feud  between  Master  Hugh  and  his  brother  being  bit- 
ter and  irreconcilable,  or,  at  least,  supposed  to  be  so. 
In  addition  to  thoughts  of  friends  from  whom  1  was 
'parting,  as   I  supposed,  forever^  I  had  the  grief  of 


184  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

neglected  chances  of  escape  to  brood  over.  I  had 
put  off  running  away,  until  now  I  was  to  be  placed 
where  the  opportunities  for  escaping  were  much  fewer 
than  in  a  large  citj  like  Baltimore. 

On  my  way  from  Baltimore  to  St.  Michael's,  down 
the  Chesapeake  bay,  our  sloop — the  Amanda — was 
passed  by  the  steamers  plying  between  that  city  and 
Philadelphia,  and  I  watched  the  course  of  those  steam- 
ers, and,  while  going  to  St.  Michael's,  I  formed  a  plan 
to  escape  from  slavery ;  of  which  plan,  and  matters 
connected  therewith  the  kind  reader  shall  learn  more 
hereafter. 


\ 


CHAPTEE  XIY. 

EXPERIENCE  IN  ST.  MICHAEL'S. 

THE    VILLAGE ITS    INHABITANTS THEIR   OCCUPATION    AND    LOW    PROPENSI 

TIES CAPTAIN      THOMAS      AULD HIS     CHARACTER HIS     SECOND     WIFE, 

ROWENA WELL     MATCHED SUFFERINGS     FROM     HUNGER OBLIGED     TO 

TAKE    FOOD MODE    OF    ARGUMENT    IN  VINDICATION  THEREOF NO  MORAL 

CODE    OF    FREE    SOCIETY  CAN    APPLY  TO  SLAVE  SOCIETY SOUTHERN  CAMP 

MEETING WHAT  MASTER  THOMAS   DID  THERE HOPES SUSPICIONS  ABOUT 

HIS     CONVERSION THE   RESULT FAITH    AND    WORKS    ENTIRELY    AT  VARI- 
ANCE  HIS  RISE  AND  PROGRESS  IN  THE  CHURCH POOR  COUSIN   "heNNy" 

HIS  TREATMENT    OF   HER THE  METHODIST  PREACHERS THEIR  UTTER  DIS- 
REGARD   OF   US ONE    EXCELLENT    EXCEPTION REV.  GEORGE  COOKMAN 

SABBATH     SCHOOL HOW    BROKEN    UP    AND    BY    WHOM A  FUNERAL    PALL 

CAST  OVER  ALL  MY  PROSPECTS COVEY  THE  NEGRO-BREAKER. 

St.  Michael's,  tlie  village  in  which  was  now  my 
new  home,  compared  favorably  with  villages  in  slave 
states,  generally.  There  were  a  few  comfortable 
dwellings  in  it,  but  the  place,  as  a  whole,  wore  a  dull, 
slovenly,  enterprise-forsaken  aspect.  The  mass  of  the 
buildings  were  of  wood  ;  they  had  never  enjoyed  the 
artificial  adornment  of  paint,  and  time  and  storms  had 
worn  off  the  bright  color  of  the  wood,  leaving  them  al- 
most as  black  as  buildings  charred  by  a  conflagration. 

St.  Michael's  had,  in  former  years,  (previous  to  1833, 
for  that  was  the  year  I  went  to  reside  there,)  enjoyed 
some  reputation  as  a  ship  building  community,  but 
that  business  had  almost  entirely  given  place  to  oys- 
ter fishing,  for  the  Baltimore  and  Philadelphia  mar- 
kets— a  course  of  life  highly  unfavorable  to  morals, 


186  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

industry,  and  manners.     Miles  river  was  broad,  and 
its  oyster  fishing  grounds  were  extensive  ;    and  tlie 
fishermen  were  out,  often,  all  day,  and  a  part  of  the 
night,  during   autumn,  winter  and  spring.     This  ex- 
posure was  an  excuse  for  carrying  with  them,  in  con- 
siderable quantities,  spirituous  liquors,  the  then  sup- 
posed best  antidote  for  cold.     Each  canoe  was  sup- 
plied with  its  jug  of  rum;  and  tippling,  among  this 
class  of  the  citizens  of  St.  Michael's,  became  general. 
This  drinking  habit,  in   an  ignorant  population,  fos- 
tered coarseness,  vulgarity  and  an  indolent  disregard 
for  the  social  improvement  of  the  place,  so  that  it  was 
admitted,  by  the  few  sober,  thinking  people  who  re- 
mained there,  that  St.  Michael's  had  become  a  very 
unsaintly^  as  well  as  an  unsightly  place,  before  I  went 
there  to  reside. 

I  left  Baltimore,  for  St.  Michael's  in  the  month  of 
March,  1833.  I  know  the  year,  because  it  was  the 
one  succeeding  the  first  cholera  in  Baltimore,  and  was 
the  year,  also,  of  that  strange  phenomenon,  when  the 
heavens  seemed  about  to  part  with  its  starry  train.  I 
witnessed  this  gorgeous  spectacle,  and  was  awe-struck. 
The  air  seemed  tilled  with  bright,  descending  messen- 
gers from  the  sky.  It  was  about  daybreak  when  I  saw 
'  this  subHme  scene.  I  was  not  without  the  suggestion,  at 
the  moment,  that  it  might  be  the  harbinger  of  the  com- 
ing of  the  Son  of  Man  ;  and,  in  my  then  state  of  mind, 
I  was  prepared  to  hail  Him  as  my  friend  and  deliverer.  ' 
I  had  read,  that  tlie  "  stars  shall  fiiU  from  heaven ;" 
and  they  were  now  falling.  I  was  suflering  much  in 
my  mind.  It  did  seem  that  every  time  the  young  ten- 
drils of  my  afiection  became  attached,  they  were  rude- 


CHAEACTEK  OF  MASTER  A^T)  MISTRESS.  187 

ly  broken  by  some  unnatural  ontsicle  power ;  and  I 
was  beginning  to  look  away  to  heaven  for  the  rest  de- 
nied me  on  earth. 

But,  to  my  s.tory.  It  was  now  more  than  seven 
years  since  I  had  lived  with  Master  Thomas  Auld,  in 
the  family  of  my  old  master,  on  Col.  Lloyd's  planta- 
tion. We  were  almost  entire  strangers  to  each  other  ; 
for,  when  I  knew  him  at  the  house  of  my  old  master,  it 
was  not  as  a  master^  bnt  simply  as  "  Captain  Auld," 
who  had  married  old  master's  daughter.  All  my  les- 
sons concerniug  his  temper  and  disposition,  and  the 
best  methods  of  pleasing  him,  were  yet  to  be  learnt. 
Slaveholders,  however,  are  not  very  ceremonious  in 
approaching  a  slave  ;  and  my  ignorance  of  the  new 
material  in  the  shape  of  a  master  was  but  transient. 
Nor  was  my  new  mistress  long  in  making  known  her 
animus.  She  was  not  a  '^  Miss  Lucretia,"  traces  of 
whom  I  yet  remembered,  and  the  more  especially,  as 
I  saw  them  shining  in  the  face  of  little  Amanda,  her 
daughter,  now  living  under  a  step-mother's  govern- 
ment. I  had  not  forgotten  the  soft  hand,  guided  by  a 
tender  heart,  that  bound  up  with  healing  balsam  the 
gash  made  in  my  haad  by  Ike,  the  son  of  Abel. 
Thomas  and  Rowena,  I  found  to  be  a  well-matched 
pair.  He  was  stingy,  and  she  was  cruel ;  and — whatj 
was  quite  natural  in  such  cases — she  possessed  the 
ability  to  make  him  as  cruel  as  herself,  while  she  could 
easily  descend  to  the  level  of  his  meanness.  In  the 
house  of  Master  Thomas,  I  was  made — for  the  first 
time  in  seven  years — to  feel  the  pinchings  of  hunger, 
and  this  was  not  very  easy  to  bear. 

For,  in  all  the  changes  of  Master  Hugh's  familj 


J 


188  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

there  was  no  change  in  the  bountifuhiess  with  which 
the  J  siipi^lied  me  with  food.  Not  to  give  a  slave 
enough  to  eat,  is  meanness  intensified,  and  it  is  so  recog- 
nized among  slaveholders  generally,  in  Maryland.  The 
rule  is,  no  matter  how  coarse  the  food,  only  let  there  be 
enough  of  it.  This  is  the  theory,  and — in  the  part  of 
Maryland  I  came  from — the  general  practice  accords 
with  this  theory.  Lloyd's  plantation  was  an  exception, 
as  was,  also,  the  house  of  Master  Thomas  Auld. 

All  know  the  lightness  of  Indian  corn-meal,  as  an 
article  of  food,  and  can  easily  judge  from  the  follow- 
ing facts  whether  the  statements  I  have  made  of  the 
stinginess  of  Master  Thomas,  are  borne  out.  There 
were  four  slaves  of  us  in  the  kitchen,  and  four  whites 
in  the  great  house — ^Thomas  Auld,  Mrs.  Auld,  Hada- 
way  Auld,  (brother  of  Thomas  Auld,)  and  little 
Amanda.  The  names  of  the  slaves  in  the  kitchen, 
were  Eliza,  my  sister ;  Priscilla,  my  aunt ;  Henny,  my 
cousin  ;  and  myself.  There  were  eight  persons  in  the 
family.  There  was,  each  week,  one  half  bushel  of 
corn-meal  brought  from  the  mill ;  and  in  the  kitchen, 
corn-meal  was  almost  our  exclusive  food,  for  very  lit- 
tle else  was  allowed  us.  Out  of  this  half  bushel  of 
corn-meal,  the  family  in  the  great  house  had  a  small 
loaf  every  morning;  thus  leaving  us,  in  the  kitchen, 
with  not  quite  a  half  a  peck  of  meal  per  week,  apiece. 
This  allov/ance  was  less  than  half  the  allowance  of 
food  on  Lloyd's  plantation.  It  was  not  enough  to  sub- 
sist upon ;  and  we  were,  therefore,  reduced  to  the 
wretched  necessity  of  living  at  the  expense  of  our 
neighbors.  We  were  compelled  either  to  beg,  or  to 
steal,  and  we  did  both.     I  frankly  confess,  tliat  while 


STEALING MODE  OP  VINDICATION.  189 

I  hated  everything  like  stealing,  as  such,  I  neverthe- 
less did  not  hesitate  to  take  food,  when  I  was  hungry, 
wherever  I  could  find  it.  'Not  was  this  practice  the 
mere  result  of  an  unreasoning  instinct ;  it  was,  in  my 
case,  the  result  of  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  claims 
of  morality.  I  vv^eighed  and  considered  the  matter 
closely,  before  I  ventured  to  satisfy  my  hunger  by 
such  means.  Considering  that  my  labor  and  person 
were  the  property  of  Master  Thomas,  and  that  I  was 
by  him  deprived  of  the  necessaries  of  life — necessa- 
ries obtained  by  my  own  labor — it  was  easy  to  de- 
duce the  right  to  supply  myself  with  what  was  my 
own.  It  was  simply  appropriating  what  was  my  own 
to  the  use  of  my  master,  since  the  health  and  strength 
derived  from  such  food  were  exerted  in  his  service. 
To  be  sure,  this  was  stealing,  according  to  the  law  and 
gospel  I  heard  from  St.  Michael's  pulpit ;  but  I  had 
already  begun  to  attach  less  importance  to  what 
dropped  from  that  quarter,  on  that  point,  while,  as 
yet,  I  retained  my  reverence  for  religion.  It  was  not 
always  convenient  to  steal  from  master,  and  the  same 
reason  why  I  might,  innocently,  steal  from  him,  did 
not  seem  to  justify  me  in  stealing  from  others.  In 
the  case  of  my  master,  it  was  only  a  question  of  re- 
moval— the  taking  his  meat  out  of  one  tub,  and  put- 
ting it  into  another ;  the  ownership  of  the  meat  was 
not  affected  by  the  transaction.  At  first,  he  owned 
it  in  the  tuh,  and  last,  he  owned  it  in  me.  His  meat 
house  was  not  always  open.  There  was  a  strict  watch 
kept  on  that  point,  and  the  key  was  on  a  large  bunch 
in  E-owena's  pocket.  A  great  many  times  have  we, 
poor  creatures,  been  severely  pinched  with  hunger, 


190  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

when  meat  and  bread  have  been  mouldiiio-  under  the 
lock,  while  the  key  was  in  the  pocket  of  our  mistress. 
This  had  been  so  v/hen  she  kneio  we  were  nearly  half 
starved  ;  and  yet,  that  mistress,  with  saintly  air,  would 
kneel  with  her  husband,  and  pray  each  morning  that 
a  merciful  God  would  bless  them  in  basket  and  in 
store,  and  save  them,  at  last,  in  his  kingdom.  But  I 
proceed  with  the  argument. 

It  was  necessary  that  the  right  to  steal  from  others 
should  be  established  ;  and  this  could  only  rest  upon 
a  wider  range  of  generalization  than  that  which  sup- 
posed the  right  to  steal  from  my  master. 

It  was  sometime  before  I  arrived  at  this  clear  right. 
The  reader  will  get  some  idea  of  my  train  of  reason- 
ing, by  a  brief  statement  of  the  case.  "  I  am," 
thought  I,  "  not  only  the  slave  of  Master  Thomas,  but 
I  am  the  slave  of  society  at  large.  Society  at  large 
has  bound  itself,  in  form  and  in  fact,  to  assist  Mas- 
ter Thomas  in  robbing  me  of  my  rightful  liberty, 
and  of  the  just  reward  of  my  labor;  therefore, 
wdiatever  rights  I  have  against  Master  Thomas,  I 
have,  equally,  against  those  confederated  with  him 
in  robbing  me  of  liberty.  As  society  has  marked  me 
out  as  privileged  plunder,  on  th§  principle  of  self- 
preservation  I  am  justified  in  plundering  in  turn. 
Since  each  slave  belongs  to  all ;  all  must,  therefore,  be- 
long to  each." 

I  shall  here  make  a  profession  of  faith  which  may 
shock  some,  offend  others,  and  be  dissented  from  by 
all.  It  is  this  :  Within  the  bounds  of  his  just  earn- 
ings, I  hold  that  the  slave  is  fully  justified  in  helping 
himself  to  the  gold  and  silver^  and  the  hest  a^pparel  of 


SELFISHNESS  OF  MASTEE  THOMAS.  191 

his  master^  or  that  of  any  other  slaveholder  /  and  that 
such  taking  is  not  stealing  m  any  just  se7ise  of  that  word. 

The  morality  oi  free  society  can  have  no  applica- 
tion to  slave  society.  Slaveholders  have  made  it  al- 
most impossible  for  the  slave  to  commit  any  crime, 
known  either  to  the  laws  of  God  or  to  the  laws  of  man. 
If  he  steals,  he  takes  his  own  ;  if  he  kills  his  master, 
he  imitates  only  the  heroes  of  the  revolution.  Slave- 
holders I  hold  to  be  individually  and  collectively  re- 
sponsible for  all  the  evils  which  grow  out  of  the  hor- 
rid relation,  and  I  believe  they  will  be  so  held  at  the 
judgment,  in  the  sight  of  a  just  God.  Make  a  man  a 
slave,  and  you  rob  him  of  moral  responsibility.  Free- 
""^^Qpm'  oi^'^li^ice .  is  the  essence  of  all  accountability. 
But  my  kind  readers  are,  probably,  less  concerned 
about  my  opinions,  than  about  that  which  more  nearly 
touches  my  personal  exnerience  ;  albeit,  my  opinions 
have,  in  some  sort,  been  formed  by  that  experience. 

Bad  as  slaveholders  are,  I  have  seldom  met  with 
one  so  entirely  destitute  of  every  element  of  charac- 
ter capable  of  inspiring  respect,  as  was  my  present 
master,  Capt.  Thomas  Auld. 

When  I  lived  with  him,  I  thought  him  incapable 
of  a  noble  action.  The  leadino;  trait  in  his  character 
was  intense  selfishness.  I  think  he  was  fully  aware 
of  this  fact  himself,  and  often  tried  to  conceal 
it.  Capt.  Auld  was  not  a  horn  slaveholder — not  a 
birthright  member  of  the  slaveholding  oligarchy. 
He  was  only  a  slaveholder  by  marriage-right  j  and, 
of  all  slaveholders,  these  latter  are,  l>yfm\  the  most 
exacting.  There  was  in  him  all  the  love  of  domina- 
tion, the  pride  of  mastery,  and  the  swagger  of  author- 


192  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

itj,  but  his  rule  lacked  the -vital  element  of  consist- 
ency. He  could  be  cruel ;  but  his  methods  of  show- 
ing it  were  cowardly,  and  evinced  his  meanness  rather 
than  his  spirit.  His  commands  were  strong,  his  en- 
forcement weak. 

Slaves  are  not  insensible  to  the  whole-souled  char- 
acteristics of  a  generous,  dashing  slaveholder,  who  is 
fearless  of  consequences ;  and  they  prefer  a  master 
of  this  bold  and  daring  kind — even  with  the  risk  of 
being  shot  down  for  impudence — to  the  fretful,  little 
soul,  who  never  uses  the  lash  but  at  the  suggestion 
of  a  love  of  gain. 

Slaves,  too,  readily  distinguish  between  the  birth- 
ri2:ht  bearins:  of  the  orio-inal  slaveholder  and  the  as- 
sumed  attitudes  of  the  accidental  slaveholder ;  and 
while  they  cannot  respect  either,  they  certainly  des- 
pise the  latter  more  than  the  former. 

The  luxury  of  having  slaves  wait  upon  him  was 
something  new  to  Master  Thomas ;  and  for  it  he  was 
wholly  unprepared.  He  was  a  slaveholder,  without 
the  ability  to  hold  or  manage  his  slaves.  We  seldom 
called  him  "  master,"  but  generally  addressed  him  by 
his  "bay  craft"  title—"  Oapt.  AuldJ'  It  is  easy  to 
see  that  such  conduct  might  do  much  to  make  him 
appear  awkward,  and,  consequently,  fretful.  His 
wife  was  especially  solicitous  to  have  us  call  her  hus- 
band "  master."  Is  your  onaster  at  the  store  ?  "  — 
"  Where  is  your  master?  ^^ — "  Go  and  tell  your  mas- 
t&i^ " —  "  I  will  make  your  masten"  acquainted  with 
your  conduct "  —  she  would  say  ;  but  we  were  inapt 
scholars.  Especially  were  I  and  my  sister  Eliza  in 
apt  in  this  particular.     Aunt  Priscilla  was  less  stub 


SOUTHERN  CAMP-MEETLNa.  193 

born  and  defiant  in  her  spirit  than  Eliza  and  myself ; 
and,  I  think,  her  road  was  less  rough  than  ours. 

In  the  month  of  August,  1833,  when  I  had  almost 
become  despemte  under  the  treatment  of  Master 
Thomas,  and  when  I  entertained  more  strongly  than 
ever  the  oft-repeated  determination  to  run  away,  a 
circumstance  occurred  which  seemed  to  promise 
brighter  and  better  days  for  us  all.  At  a  Methodist 
camp-meeting,  held  in  the  Bay  Side,  (a  famous  place 
for  camp-meetings,)  about  eight  miles  from  St.  Mi- 
chael's, Master  Thomas  came  out  with  a  profession 
of  religion.  He  had  long  been  an  object  of  interest 
to  the  church,  and  to  the  ministers,  as  I  had  seen  by 
the  repeated  visits  and  lengthy  exhortations  of  the 
latter.  He  was  a  fish  quite  worth  catching,  for  he 
had  money  and  standing.  In  the  community  of  St. 
Micliael's  he  was  equal  to  the  best  citizen.  He  was 
strictly  temperate  ;  jperhajps^  from  principle,  but  most 
likely,  from  interest.  There  was  very  little  to  do  for 
him,  to  give  him  the  appearance  of  piety,  and  to  make 
him  a  pillar  in  the  church.  Well,  the  camp-meeting 
continued  a  week  ;  people  gathered  from  all  parts  of 
the  county,  and  two  steamboat  loads  came  from  Bal- 
timore. The  ground  was  happily  chosen ;  seats  were 
arranged ;  a  stand  erected ;  a  rude  altar  fenced  in, 
fronting  the  preachers'  stand,  with  straw  in  it  for  the 
accommodation  of  mourners.  This  latter  would  hold 
at  least  one  hundred  persons.  In  front,  and  on  the 
sides  of  the  preachers'  stand,  and  outside  the  long 
rows  of  seats,  rose  the  first  class  of  stately  tents,  each 
vieing  with  the  other  in  strength,  neatness,  and  capa- 
city for  accommodating  its  inmates.  Behind  this 
I  .  13 


194  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

first  circle  of  tents  was  another,  less  imposing,  which 
reached  round  the  camp-ground  to  the  speakers' 
stand.  Outside  this  second  class  of  tents  were  cov- 
ered wagons,  ox  carts,  and  vehicles  of  every  shape 
and  size.  These  served  as  tents  to  their  owners.  Out- 
side of  these,  huge  fires  were  burning,  in  all  direc- 
tions, where  roasting,  and  boiling,  and  frying,  were 
going  on,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  were  attending 
to  their  own  spiritual  welfare  within  the  circle.  Be- 
hind the  preachers'  stand,  a  narrow  space  was 
marked  out  for  the  use  of  the  colored  people.  There 
were  no  seats  provided  for  this  class  of  persons  ;  the 
preachers  addressed  them,  "  over  the  left^''  if  they  ad- 
dressed them  at  all.  After  the  preaching  was  over, 
at  every  service,  an  invitation  was  given  to  mourners 
to  come  into  the  pen  ;  and,  in  some  cases,  ministers 
went  out  to  persuade  men  and  women  to  come  in. 
By  one  of  these  ministers.  Master  Thomas  Auld  was 
persuaded  to  go  inside  the  pen.  I  was  deeply  inter- 
ested in  that  matter,  and  followed  ;  and,  though  col- 
ored people  were  not  allowed  either  in  the  pen  or  in 
front  of  the  preachers'  stand,  I  ventured  to  take  my 
stand  at  a  sort  of  half-way  place  between  the  blacks 
and  whites,  where  I  could  distinctly  see  the  move- 
ments of  mourners,  and  especially  the  progress  of 
Master  Thomas. 

.  "  If  he  has  got  religion,"  thought  I,  "  he  will  eman- 
cipate his  slaves  ;  and  if  he  should  not  do  so  much  as 
this,  he  will,  at  any  rate,  behave  tovv^ard  us  more 
kindly,  and  feed  us  more  generously  than  he  has 
heretofore  done."  Appealing  to  my  own  religious 
experience,  and  judging  my  master  by  v/hat  was 


TILE  RESULT.  195 

true  in  mj  own  case,  I  conld  not  regard  him  as 
soundly  converted,  nnless  some  such  good  results  fol- 
lowed his  profession  of  religion. 

But  in  my  expectations  I  was  doubly  disappointed ; 
Master  Thomas  was  3f aster  ThoTnas  still.  The  fruits 
of  his  righteousness  were  to  show  themselves  in  no 
such  way  as  I  had  anticipated.  His  conversion  was 
not  to  change  his  relation  toward  men — at  any  rate 
not  toward  black  men  —  but  toward  God.  My 
faith,  I  confess,  was  not  great.  There  was  something 
in  his  appearance  that,  in  my  mind,  cast  a  doubt  over 
his  conversion.  Standing  where  I  did,  I  could  see 
his  every  movement.  I  watched  very  narrowly  while 
he  remained  in  the  little  pen ;  and  although  I  saw 
that  his  face  was  extremely  red,  and  his  hair  dishev- 
eled, and  though  I  heard  him  groan,  and  saw  a  stray 
tear  halting  on  his  cheek,  as  if  inquiring  "  which  way 
shall  I  go  ?  " — I  could  not  wholly  confide  in  the  gen- 
uineness of  his  coversion.  The  hesitating  behavior 
of  that  tear-droj),  and  its  loneliness,  distressed  me,  and 
cast  a  doubt  upon  the  whole  transaction,  of  which  it 
was  a  part.  But  people  said,  "  Gapt.  Auld  had  come 
ihrough^^  and  it  was  for  me  to  hope  for  the  best.  1 
was  bound  to  do  this,  in  charity,  for  I,  too,  was  reli- 
gious, and  had  been  in  the  church  full  three  years, 
although  now  I  was  not  more  than  sixteen  years  old. 
Slaveholders  may,  sometimes,  have  confidence  \^  the 
piety  of  some  of  their  slaves  ;  but  the  slaves  seldom 
have  confidence  in  the  piety  of  their  masters.  ''^  He 
cant  go  to  heaven  vnth  our  hlood  in  his  skii^ts^^'^  is  a 
settled  point  in  the  creed  of  every  slave  ;  rising  su- 
perior to  all  teaching  to  the  contrary,  and  standing 


196  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

forever  as  a  fixed  fact.  The  liigliest  evidence  the 
slaveholder  can  give  the  slave  of  his  acceptance  with 
God,  is  the  emancipation  of  his  slaves.  This  is  proof 
that  he  is  willing  to  give  up  all  to  God,  and  for  the 
sake  of  God.  Not  to  do  this,  was,  in  my  estimation, 
and  in  the  opinion  of  all  the  slaves,  an  evidence  of 
half-heartedness,  and  wholly  inconsistent  with  the 
idea  of  genuine  conversion.  I  had  read,  also,  some- 
where in  the  Methodist  Discipline,  the  following 
question  and  answer:  - 

"  Question.  What  shall  be  done  for  the  extirpation 
of  slaverj^  ? 

"  Answm'.  We  declare  that  we  are  as  much  as  ever 
convinced  of  the  great  evil  of  slavery ;  therefore, 
no  slaveholder  shall  be  eligible  to  any  official  station 
in  our  church." 

These  words  sounded  in  my  ears  for  a  long  time, 
and  encouraged  me  to  hope.  But,  as  I  have  before 
said,  I  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  Master 
Thomas  seemed  to  be  aware  of  my  hopes  and  ex- 
pectations concerning  him.  I  have  thought,  before 
now,  that  he  looked  at  me  in  answer  to  my  glances, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  will  teach  you,  young  man, 
that,  though  I  have  parted  with  my  sins,  I  have  not 
parted  with  my  sense.  I  shall  hold  my  slaves,  and 
go  to  heaven  too." 

Pctssibly,  to  convince  us  that  we  must  not  j^resume 
too  much  upon  his  recent  conversion,  he  became 
rather  more  rigid  and  stringent  in  his  exactions. 
There  always  was  a  scarcity  of  good  nature  about 
the  man  ;  but  now  his  whole  countenance  was 
soured  over  with  the  seemings  of  piety.     His  reli- 


FArrn  and  works  at  vaeiance.  197 

glon,  therefore,  neither  made  him  emancipate  his 
slaves,  nor  caused  him  to  treat  them  with  greater  hu- 
manity. If  religion  had  any  effect  on  his  character 
at  all,  it  made  him  more  cruel  and  hateful  in  all  his 
ways.  The  natural  wickedness  of  his  heart  had  not 
been  removed,  but  only  reenforced,  by  the  profession 
of  religion.  Do  I  judge  him  harshly?  God  forbid. 
Facts  are  facts.  Capt.  Auld  made  the  greatest  pro- 
fession of  piety.  His  house  was,  literally,  a  house  of 
prayer.  In  the  morning,  and  in  the  evening,  loud 
prayers  and  hymns  were  heard  there,  in  which  both 
himself  and  his  wife  joined;  yet,  no  Tuore  oneal  was 
brought  from  the  mill,  no  tnove  attention  was  paid  to 
the  moral  welfare  of  the  kitchen ;  and  nothing  was 
done  to  make  us  feel  that  the  heart  of  Master  Thomas 
was  one  whit  better  than  it  was  before  he  went  into 
the  little  pen,  opposite  to  the  preachers'  stand,  on 
the  camp  ground. 

Our  hopes  (founded  on  the  discipline)  soon  vanished ; 
for  the  authorities  let  him  into  the  church  at  once^ 
and  before  he  was  out  of  his  term  of  ])r6bation^  I 
heard  of  his  leading  class  !  He  distinguished  himself 
greatly  among  the  brethren,  and  was  soon  an  exhorter. 
His  progress  was  almost  as  rapid  as  the  growth  of  the 
fabled  vine  of  Jack's  bean.  No  man  was  more  active 
than  ho,  in  revivals.  He  would  go  many  miles  to 
assist  in  carrying  them  on,  and  in  getting  outsiders 
interested  in  religion.  His  house  being  one  of  the 
holiest,  if  not  the  happiest  in  St.  Michael's,  became 
the  "  23reachers'  home."  These  preachers  evidently 
liked  to  share  Master  Thomas's  hospitality;  for  while 
he  starved  us,  he  stuffed  them.     Three  or  four  of  tlv«aQ 


198  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

ambassadors  of  tlie  gospel — according  to  slavery — > 
have  been  there  at  a  time ;  all  living  on  the  fat  of 
the  land,  while  we,  in  the  kitchen,  vrere  nearly  starv- 
ing.    Not  often  did  we  get  a  smile  of  recognition  from 
these  holy  men.     They  seemed  almost  as  unconcerned 
about  our  getting  to  heaven,  as  they  were  about  our 
getting  out  of  slavery.     To  this  general  charge  there 
was  one  exception — the  Hev.  George  Cookmajst.     Un- 
like Rev.  Messrs.  Storks,  Ewry,  Hickey,  Humphrey 
and  Cooper,  (all  whom  were  on  the  St.  Michael's  cir- 
cuit,) he  kindly  took  an  interest  in  our  temporal  and 
spiritual  welfare.     Our  souls  and  our  bodies  were  all 
alike  sacred  in  his  sight ;  and  he^'eally  had  a  good 
deal  of  genuine  anti-slavery  feeling  mingied-with  his 
colonization  ideas.     There  was   not   a  slave  in  our 
•  neighborhood  that  did  not  love,  and  almost  venerate, 
Mr.  Cookman.     It  was  pretty  generally  believed  that 
he  had  been  chiefly  instrumental  in  bringing  one  of 
the   largest  slaveholders — Mr.  Samuel  Harrison — in 
that  neighborhood,  to  emancipate  all  his  slaves,  and, 
indeed,  the  general  impression  was,  that  Mr.  Cook- 
man  had  labored  faithfully  with  slaveholders,  when- 
ever he  met  them,  to  induce  them  to  emancipate  their 
bondmen,  and  that  he  did  this  as  a  religious  duty. 
When  this  good  man  was  at  our  house,  we  were  all 
sure  to  be  called  in  to  prayers  in  the  morning ;  and  he 
was  not  slow  in  making  inquiries  as  to  the  state  of  our 
minds,  nor  in  giving  us  a  word  of  exhortation  and  of 
encouras^ement.     Great  was   the   sorrow  of   all   the 
slaves,  when  this  faithful  preacher  of  the  gospel  was 
removed  from  the  Talbot  county  circuit.     He  was  an 
eloquent  preacher,  and  possessed  what  few  ministers, 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOOL.  199 

soutli  of  Mason  Dixon's  line,  possess,  or  dare  to  show, 
viz  :  a  warm  and  pbilantliropic  heart.  The  Mr.  Cook- 
man,  of  whom  I  speak,  was  an  Englishman  bj  biith, 
and  perished  while  on  his  way  to  England,  on  board 
the  ill-fated  President.  Could  the  thousands  of  slaves 
in  Maryland,  know  the  fate  of  the  good  man,  to  whose 
words  of  comfort  they  were  so  largely  indebted,  they 
would  thank  me  for  dropping  a  tear  on  this  page,  in 
memory  of  their  favorite  preacher,  friend  and  bene- 
factor. 

But,  let  me  return  to  Master  Thomas,  and  to  my 
experience,  after  his  conversion.  In  Baltimore,  I 
could,  occasionally,  get  into  a  Sabbath  school,  among 
the  free  children,  and  receive  lessons,  with  the  rest; 
but,  havinor  alreadv  learned  both  to  read  and  to  write, 
I  was  more  of  a  teacher  than  a  pupil,  even  there. 
When,  however,  I  went  back  to  the  Eastern  Shore,  and 
was  at  the  house  of  Master  Thomas,  I  was  neither  al- 
lowed to  teach,  nor  to  be  taught.  The  whole  com- 
munity— with  but  a  single  exception,  among  the 
whites — frowned  upon  everything  like  imparting  in- 
Btruction  either  to  slaves  or  to  free  colored  persons. 
That  single  exception,  a  pious  young  man,  named 
Wilson,  asked  me,  one  day,  if  I  would  like  to  assist 
him  in  teaching  a  little  Sabbath  school,  at  the  house 
of  a  free  colored  man  in  St.  Michael's,  named  James 
Mitchell.  Tlie  idea  was  to  me  a  delightful  one,  and 
I  told  liim  I  would  gladly  devote  as  much  of  my  Sab- 
baths as  I  could  command,  to  that  most  laudable 
work.  Mr.  Wilson  soon  mustered  up  a  dozen  old 
epelling  books,  and  a  few  testaments ;  and  we  com- 
menced operations,  with  some  twenty  scholars,  in  our 


200  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

Sunclaj  scliool.  Here,  thought  I,  is  something  worth 
living  for ;  here  is  an  excellent  chance  for  usefulness  ; 
and  I  shall  soon  have  a  company  of  young  friends, 
lovers  of  knowledge,  like  some  of  my  Baltimore  friends, 
from  whom  1  now  felt  parted  forever. 

Our  first  Sabbath  passed  delightfully,  and  I  spent 
the  week  after  very  joyously.  I  could  not  go  to  Bal- 
timore, but  I  could  make  a  little  Baltimore  here.  At 
our  second  meeting,  I  learned  that  there  was  some 
objection  to  the  existence  of  the  Sabbath  school ;  and, 
sure  enough,  we  had  scarcely  got  at  work — goodworh^ 
simply  teaching  a  few  colored  children  how  to  read 
the  gospel  of  the  Son  of  God — when  in  rushed  a  mob, 
headed  by  Mr.  Wright  Fairbanks  and  Mr.  Garrison 
West — two  class-leaders — and  Master  Thomas  ;  who, 
armed  with  sticks  and  other  missiles,  drove  us  off,  and 
commanded  us  never  to  meet  for  such  a  purpose  again. 
One  of  this  pious  crew  told  me,  that  as  for  my  part, 
I  wanted  to  be  another  IsTat  Turner ;  and  if  I  did  not 
look  out,  I  should  get  as  many  balls  into  me,  as  ISTat 
did  into  him.  Thus  ended  the  infant  Sabbath  school, 
in  the  town  of  St.  Michael's.  The  reader  will  not  be 
surprised  when  I  say,  that  the  breaking  up  of  my 
Sabbath  school,  by  these  class-leaders,  and  professed- 
ly holy  men,  did  not  serve  to  strengthen  my  religious 
convictions.  The  cloud  over  my  St.  Michael's  home 
grew  heavier  and  blacker  than  ever. 

It  was  not  merely  the  agency  of  Master  Thomas,  in 
breaking  up  and  destroying  my  Sabbath  school,  that 
shook  my  confidence  in  the  power  of  southern  reli- 
gion to  make  men  wiser  or  better ;  but  I  saw  in  him 
all  the  cruelty  and  meanness,  after  his  conversiorij 


BAKBAKOUS    TREATMENT  OF  IIEKNY.  201 

which  he  had  exhibited  before  he  made  a  profession 
of  religion.     His  cruelty  and  meanness  were  espe- 
cially displayed  in  his  treatment  of  my  unfortunate 
cousin,  Ilenny,  whose  lameness  made  her  a  burden  to 
him.     I   have  no  extraordinary  personal  hard  usage 
toward  myself  to  complain  of,  against  him,  but  I  have 
seen  him  tie  up  the  lame  and  maimed  woman,  and 
whip  her  in  a  manner  most  brutal,  and  shocking ;  and 
then,  with  blood-chilling  blasphemy,  he  would  quote 
the  passage  of  scripture,  "That  servant  which  knew 
his  lord's  will,  and  prepared  not  himself,  neither  did  ac- 
cording to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes." 
Master  would  keep  this  lacerated  woman  tied  up  by 
her  wrists,  to  a  bolt  in  the  joist,  three,  four  and  five 
hours  at  a  time.     lie  would  tie  her  up  early  in  the 
morning,  whip  her  with  a  cowskin  before  breakfast ; 
leave  her  tied  up ;  go  to  his  store,  and,  returning  to 
his  dinner,  repeat  the  castigation ;  laying  on  the  rug- 
ged lash,  on  flesh  already  made  raw  by  repeated  blows. 
He  seemed  desirous  to  get  the  poor  girl  out  of  exist- 
ence, or,  at  any  rate,  off  his  hands.     In  proof  of  this, 
he  afterwards  gave  her  away  to  his  sister  Sarah,  (Mrs. 
Cline ;)  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Master  Hugh,  Henny 
was  soon  returned  on  his  hands.     Finally,  upon  a  pre- 
tense  that  he  could  do  nothing  with  her,  (I  use  his 
own  words,)  he  "  set  her  adrift,  to  take  care  of  herself." 
Here  was  a  recently  converted   man,  holding,  with 
tight  grasp,  the  well- framed,  and  able  bodied  slaves 
left  him  by  old  master — the  persons,  who,  in  freedom, 
could   have  taken  care  of  themselves ;  yet,  turning 
loose  the  only  cripple  among  them,  virtually  to  starve 
and  die. 

I* 


202  LIFE  AS  A  SLATE. 

"No  doubt,  had  Master  Thomas  been  asked,  bv  some 
pious  uortliern  brother,  wky  he  continued  to  sustain 
the  rehitiou  of  a  slaveholder,  to  those  whom  he  re- 
tained, his  answer  would  have  been  precisely  the 
same  as  many  other  religious  slaveholders  have  re- 
turned to  that  inquiry,  viz :  "  I  hold  my  slaves  for 
their  own  good." 

Bad  as  my  condition  was  when  I  lived  with  Mas- 
ter Thomas,  I  was  soon  to  experience  a  life  far  naore 
goading  and  bitter.  The  many  differences  spring- 
ing up  between  myself  and  Master  Thomas,  owing  to 
the  clear  perception  I  had  of  his  character,  and  the 
boldness  with  which  I  defended  myself  against  his 
capricious  complaints,  led  him  to  declare  that  I  was 
unsaited  to  his  wants;  that  my^?ity  life  had  affected 
me  perniciously ;  that,  in  fact,  it  had  almost  ruined  me 
for  every  good  purpose,  and  had  fitted  me  for  every- 
thing that  was  bad.  One  of  my  greatest  faults,  or 
offenses,  was  that  of  letting  his  horse  get  away,  and 
go  down  to  the  farm  belonging  to  his  father-in-law. 
The  animal  had  a  liking  for  that  farm,  with  which  I 
fully  sympathized.  Whenever  I  let  it  out,  it  would 
go  dashing  down  the  road  to  Mr.  Hamilton's,  as  if  going 
on  a  grand  frolic.  My  horse  gone,  of  course  I  must 
go  after  it.  The  explanation  of  our  mutual  attach- 
ment to  the  place  is  the  same  ;  the  horse  found  there 
good  pasturage,  and  I  found  there  plenty  of  bread. 
Mr.  Hamilton  had  his  faults,  but  starving^  his  slaves 
was  not  among  them.  He  gave  food,  in  abundance, 
and  that,  too,  of  an  excellent  quality.  In  Mr.  Ham- 
ilton's cook — Aunt  Mary — I  found  a  most  generous 
and  considerate  friend.     She  never  allowed  me  to  go 


COVEY,    THE   NEGEO   BREAKER.  203 

there  without  giving  me  bread  euongh  to  make  good 
the  deficiencies  of  a  dav  or  two.  Master  Thomas  at 
last  resolved  to  endure  my  beliavior  no  longer ;  he 
could  neither  keep  me,  nor  his  horse,  we  liked  so  well 
to  be  at  his  father-in-law's  farm.  I  had  now  lived 
with  him  nearly  nine  months,  and  he  had  given  me 
a  number  of  severe  whippings,  without  any  visible 
improvement  in  my  character,  or  my  conduct;  and 
now  he  was  resolved  to  put  me  out — as  he  said — "  to 
he  hroken.''^ 

There  was,  in  the  Bay  Side,  very  near  the  camp 
ground,  where  my  master  got  his  religious  impres- 
sions, a  man  named  Edward  Covey,  who  enjoyed  the 
execrated  reputation,  of  being  a  first  rate  hand  at 
breaking  young  negroes.  This  Covey  was  a  poor 
man,  a  farm  renter;  and  this  reputation,  (hateful  as 
it  was  to  the  slaves  and  to  all  good  men,)  was,  at  the 
same  time,  of  immense  advantage  to  him.  It  enabled 
him  to  get  his  farm  tilled  with  very  little  expense, 
compared  with  what  it  would  have  cost  liim  without 
this  most  extraordinary  reputation.  Some  slavehold- 
ers thought  it  an  advantage  to  let  Mr.  Covey  have 
the  government  of  their  slaves  a  year  or  two,  almost 
free  of  charge,  for  the  sake  of  the  excellent  training 
such  slaves  got  under  his  happy  management!  Like 
some  horse  breakers,  noted  for  their  skill,  who  ride 
the  best  horses  in  the  country  without  expense,  Mr. 
Covey  could  have  under  him,  the  most  fiery  bloods 
of  the  neighborhood,  for  the  simple  reward  of  re- 
turning them  to  their  owners,  well  broken.  Added 
to  the  natural  fitness  of  Mr.  Covey  for  the  duties 
of  his  profession,  he  w^as  said  to  "enjoy  religion," 


S04:  LIFE   AS  A  SLATE. 

and  was  as  strict  in  the  cultivation  of  piety,  as  lie  was 
in  the  cultivation  of  his  farm.  I  was  made  aware  of 
his  character  by  some  who  had  been  under  his  hand ; 
and  while  I  could  not  look  forward  to  going  to  him 
with  any  pleasure,  I  was  glad  to  get  away  from  St. 
Michael's.  I  was  sure  of  getting  enough  to  eat  at 
Covey's,  even  if  I  suffered  in  other  respects.  TMs^ 
to  a  hungry  man,  is  not  a  prospect  to  be  regarded 
with  indifference. 


^    ' 


\ 


CHAPTER  XY. 

COVEY,  THE  NEGRO  BREAKER. 

JOUENET  TO  MY  NEW  MASTER  S MEDITATIONS    BY    THE    WAY VIEW  OF  CO- 

VEY's    residence THE     FAMILY THE     AUTHOr's     AWKWARDNESS    AS    A 

FIELD  HAND A  CRUEL    BEATING WHY    IT    WAS    GIVEN DESCRIPTION  OF 

COVEY FIRST    ADVENTURE    AT   OX  DRIVING HAIR     BREADTH    ESCAPES 

OX     AND    MAN     ALIKE    PROPERTY COVEY's    MANNER    OF   PROCEEDING    TO 

WHIP HARD  LABOR  BETTER    THAN  THE  WHIP  FOR   BREAKING  DOWN    Tilli 

SPIRIT CUNNING  AND  TRICKERY  OF  COVEY FAMILY  WORSHIP SHOCKING 

CONTEMPT  FOR    CHASTITY THE  AUTHOR    BROKEN    DOWN GREAT  MENTAL 

AGITATION    IN  CONTRASTING  THE    FREEDOM    OF    THE  SHIPS    WITH  HIS  OWN 
SLAVERY — ANGUISH  BEYOND  DESCRIPTION. 

The  morning  of  tlie  first  of  January,  1834,  with  its 
cliilling  wind  and  pinching  frost,  quite  in  harmony 
with  the  winter  in  my  own  mind,  found  me,  with  my 
little  bundle  of  clothing  on  the  end  of  a  stick,  swung 
across  my  shoulder,  on  the  main  road,  bending  my 
way  toward  Covey's,  whither  I  had  been  imperiously 
ordered  by  Master  Thomas.  The  latter  had  been  as 
good  as  his  word,  and  had  committed  me,  without  re- 
serve, to  the  mastery  of  Mr.  Edward  Covey.  Eight 
or  ten  years  had  now  passed  since  I  had  been  taken 
from  my  grandmother's  cabin,  in  Tuckahoe ;  and 
these  years,  for  the  most  part,  I  had  spent  in  Bal- 
timore, where — as  the  reader  has  already  seen — I  was 
treated  with  comparative  tenderness.  I  was  now 
about  to  sound  profounder  depths  in  slave  life.     The 


206  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

rigors  of  a  field,  less  tolerable  than  the  field  of  bat- 
tle, awaited  me.     My  new  master  was  notorious  for 
his  fierce  and  savage  disposition,  and  my  only  conso- 
lation in  going  to  live  with  him  was,  the  certainty  of 
finding  him  precisely  as  represented  by  common  fame. 
There  was  neither  joy  in  my  heart,  nor  elasticity  in 
my  step,  as  I  started  in  search  of  the  tyrant's  home. 
Starvation  made  me  glad  to  leave  Thomas  Anld's,  and 
the  cruel  lash  made  me  dread  to  go  to  Covey's.     Es- 
cape ^vas  impossible ;  so,  heavy  and  sad,  I  paced  the 
seven  miles,  which  separated  Covey's  house  from'  St. 
Michael's  —  thinking  much   by  the  solitary  way — - 
averse  to  my  condition  ;  but  thinking  was  all  I  cpitfd 
do.     Like  a  fish  in  a  net,  allowed  to  play  for  .a  time, 
I  was  now  drawn  rapidly  to  the  shore,  seaa-fed  at  all 
points.     "  I   am,"    thought  I,   "  but   ji*6   sport  of  a 
power  which  makes  no  account,  either  of  my  welfare 
or  of  my  happiness.     By  a  law  which  I  can  clearly 
comprehend,  but  cannot  evade  nor  resist,  I  am  ruth- 
lessly snatched  from  the  hearth  of  a  fond  grandmother, 
and  hurried  away  to  the  home  of  a  mysterious   '  old 
master  ; '  again  I  am  removed  from  the*re,  to  a  master 
in  Baltimore ;    thence  am   I  snatched   away  to  the 
Eastern  Shore,  to  be  valued  with  the  beasts  of  the 
field,  and,  with  them,  divided  and  set  apart  for  a  pos- 
sessor ;  then  I  am  sent  back  to  Baltimore ;  and  by 
the  time  I  have  formed  new  attachments,  and  have  be- 
gun to  hope  that  no  more  rude  shocks  shall  touch  me, 
a  difi'erence  arises  between  brothers,  and  I  am  again 
broken  up,  and  sent  to  St.  Michael's ;  and  now,  from 
the  latter  place,  I  am  footing  my  way  to  the  home  of 
a  new  master,  where,  I  am  given  to  understand,  that, 


covey's   residence THE   FAMILY.  207 

like  a  wild  young  working  animal,  I  am  to  be  broken 
to  the  yoke  of  a  bitter  andlife-lono;  bondai^e." 

With  thoughts  and  reflections  like  these,  I  came  in 
sight  of  a  small  wood-colored  building,  about  a  mile 
from  the  main  road,  which,  from  the  description  I  had 
received,  at  starting,  I  easily  recognized  as  my  new 
home.  The  Chesapeake  bay — upon  the  jutting  banks 
of  which  the  little  wood-colored  house  was  standins: — 
white  with  foam,  raised  by  the  heavy  north-west 
wind ;  Poplar  Island,  covered  with  a  thick,  black 
pine  forest,  standing  out  amid  this  half  ocean ;  and 
Kent  Point,  stretching  its  sandy,  desert-like  shores 
out  into  the  foam-crested  bay, — were  all  in  sight,  and 
deepened  the  wild  and  desolate  aspect  of  my  new 
home. 

The  good  clothes  I  had  brought  with  me  from  Bal- 
timore were  now  worn  thin,  and  had  not  been  re- 
placed ;  for  Master  Thomas  was  as  little  careful  to 
provide  us  against  cold,  as  against  hunger.  Met  here 
by  a  north  wind,  sweeping  tlirough  an  open  space  of 
forty  miles,  I  was  glad  to  make  any  port ;  and,  there- 
fore, I  speedily  pressed  on  to  the  little  wood -colored 
house.  The  family  consisted  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Covey ; 
Miss  Kemp,  (a  broken-backed  woman,)  a  sister  of 
Mrs.  Covey  ;  William  Hughes,  cousin  to  Edward  Co- 
vey ;  Caroline,  the  cook ;  Bill  Smith,  a  hired  man ; 
and  myself.  Bill  Smith,  Bill  Hughes,  and  myself, 
were  the  working  force  of  the  farm,  which  consisted 
of  three  or  four  hundred  acres.  I  was  now,  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life,  to  be  a  field  hand ;  and  in  my 
new  employment  I  found  myself  even  more  awkward 
than  a  green  country  boy  may  be  supposed  to  be, 


208  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

upon  his  first  entrance  into  the  bewildering  scenes  of 
city  life  ;  and  my  awkwardness  gave  me  much  trouble. 
Strange  and  unnatural  as  it  may  seem,  I  had  been  at 
my  new  home  but  three  days,  before  Mr.  Covey,  (my 
brother  in  the  Methodist  church,)  gave  me  a  bitter 
foretaste  of  what  was  in  reserve  for  me.  I  presume 
he  thought,  that  since  he  had  but  a  single  year  in  which, 
to  complete  his  work,  the  sooner  he  began,  the  bet- 
ter. Perhaps  he  thought  that,  by  coming  to  blows  at 
once,  we  should  mutually  better  understand  our  rela- 
tions. But  to  whatever  motive,  direct  or  indirect, 
the  cause  may  be  referred,  I  had  not  been  in  his  pos- 
session three  whole  days,  before  he  subjected  me  to  a 
most  brutal  chastisement.  Under  his  heavy  blows., 
blood  flowed  freely,  and  wales  w^ere  left  on  my  back 
as  large  as  my  little  finger.  The  sores  on  my  back, 
from  this  flogging,  continued  for  weeks,  for  they  were 
kept  open  by  the  rough  and  coarse  cloth  which  I  wore 
for  shirting.  The  occasion  and  details  of  this  first 
chapter  of  my  experience  as  a  field  hand,  must  be 
told,  that  the  reader  may  see  how  unreasonable,  as 
well  as  how  cruel,  my  new  master.  Covey,  was.  The 
whole  thing  I  found  to  be  characteristic  of  the  man  ; 
and  I  was  probably  treated  no  worse  by  him  than 
scores  of  lads  who  had  previously  been  committed 
to  him,  for  reasons  similar  to  those  which  induced 
my  master  to  place  me  with  him.  But,  here  are 
the  facts  connected  with  the  afi'air,  precisely  as  they 
occurred. 

On  one  of  the  coldest  days  of  the  whole  month  of 
January,  1834,  I  was  ordered,  at  day  break,  to  get  a 
load  of  wood,  from  a  forest  about  two  miles  from  the 


FIEST   ADVENTURE   AT   OX   DKIYINa.      ♦  209 

house.  In  order  to  perform  this  work,  Mr.  Covey  gave 
me  a  pair  of  unbroken  oxen,  for,  it  seems,  his  breaking 
abilities  had  not  been  turned  in  this  direction  ;  and  I 
may  remark,  in  passing,  that  working  animals  in  the 
south,  are  seldom  so  well  trained  as  in  the  north.  In 
due  form,  and  with  all  proper  ceremony,  I  was  intro- 
duced to  this  huge  yoke  of  unbroken  oxen,  and  was 
carefully  told  which  was  "  Buck,"  and  which  was 
"  Darbv  " — which  was  the  "  in  hand,"  and  which  was 
the  '^  off  hand  "  ox.  The  master  of  this  important 
ceremony  was  no  less  a  person  than  Mr.  Covey,  him- 
self; and  the  introduction,  was  the  first  of  the  kind  I 
had  ever  had.  My  life,  hithei'to,  had  led  me  away 
from  horned  cattle,  and  I  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
art  of  managing  them.  "What  was  meant  by  the  "  in 
ox,"  as  against  the  "  off  ox,"  when  both  were  equally 
fastened  to  one  cart,  and  under  one  yoke,  I  could  not 
very  easily  divine  ;  and  the  difference,  implied  by  the 
names,  and  the  peculiar  duties  of  each,  were  alike 
Greek  to  me.  Why  was  not  the  ''  off  ox  "  called  the 
"  in  ox  ? "  Where  and  what  is  the  reason  for  this  dis- 
tinction in  names,  when  there  is  none  in  the  things 
themselves?  After  initiating  me  into  the  ^^  woa^^ 
"  hdSiclh''  "  gee^^  "  hither  " — the  entire  spoken  language 
between  oxen  and  driver — Mr.  Covey  took  a  rope, 
about  ten  feet  long  and  one  inch  thick,  and  placed 
one  end  of  it  around  the  horns  of  the  '^  in  hand  ox," 
and  gave  the  other  end  to  me,  telling  me  that  if  the 
oxen  started  to  run  away,  as  the  scamp  knew  they 
would,  I  must  hold  on  to  the  rope  and  stop  them.  I 
need  not  tell  any  one  who  is  acquainted  with  either 
the  strength  or  the  disposition  of  an  untamed  ox,  that 

u 


210  *  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

this  order  was  about  as  unreasonable,  as  a  command 
to  shoulder  a  mad  bull !  I  bad  never  driven  oxen  be- 
fore, and  I  was  as  awkward,  as  a  driver,  as  it  is  pos- 
sible to  conceive.  It  did  not  answer  for  me  to  plead 
ignorance,  to  Mr.  Covey ;  there  was  something  in  his 
manner  that  quite  forbade  that.  He  was  a  man  to 
whom  a  slave  seldom  felt  any  disposition  to  speak. 
Cold,  distant,  morose,  with  a  face  wearing  all  the 
marks  of  captious  pride  and  malicious  sternness,  he 
repelled  all  advances.  Covey  was  not  a  large  man  ; 
he  was  only  about  five  feet  ten  inches  in  height,  I 
should  think ;  short  necked,  round  shoulders ;  of 
quick  and  wiry  motion,  of  thin  and  wolfish  visage ; 
with  a  pair  of  small,  greenish-gray  eyes,  set  well  back 
under  a  foreliead  without  dignity,  and  constantly  in 
motion,  and  floating  his  passions,  rather  than  his 
thoughts,  in  sight,  but  denying  them  utterance  in 
words.  The  creature  presented  an  appearance  alto- 
gether ferocious  and  sinister,  disagreeable  and  forbid- 
ding, in  the  extreme.  When  he  spoke,  it  was  from 
the  corner  of  his  mouth,  and  in  a  sort  of  light  growl, 
like  a  dog,  when  an  attempt  is  made  to  take  a  bone 
from  him.  The  fellow  had  already  made  me  believe 
him  even  worse  than  he  had  been  represented.  With 
his  directions,  and  without  stopping  to  question,  I 
started  for  the  woods,  quite  anxious  to  perform  my 
first  exploit  in  driving,  in  a  creditable  manner.  The 
distance  from  the  house  to  the  woods  gate — a  full  mile, 
I  should  think — was  passed  over  with  very  little  difli- 
culty  ;  for  although  the  animals  ran,  I  was  fleet 
enough,  in  the  open  field,  to  keep  pace  with  them; 
especially  as  tliey  pulled  me  along  at  the  end  of  the 


HAtR-BREABTH  ESCAPES.  211 

rope ;  but,  on  reaching  the  woods,  I  was  speedily- 
thrown  into  a  distressing  plight.  The  animals  took 
fright,  and  started  off  ferociously  into  the  woods,  carry- 
ing the  cart,  full  tilt,  against  trees,  over  stumps,  and 
dashing  from  side  to  side,  in  a  manner  altogether  fright- 
ful. As  I  held  the  rope,  I  expected  every  moment 
to  be  crushed  between  the  cart  and  the  huge  trees, 
among  which  they  were  so  furiously  dashing.  After 
running  thus  for  several  minutes,  my  oxen  were, 
finally,  brought  to  a  stand,  by  a  tree,  against  which 
they  dashed  themselves  with  great  violence,  upsetting 
the  cart,  and  entangling  themselves  among  sundry 
young  saplings.  By  the  shock,  the  body  of  the  cart 
was  flung  in  one  direction,  and  the  wheels  and  tongue 
in  another,  and  all  in  the  greatest  confusion.  There  I 
was,  all  alone,  in  a  thick  wood,  to  which  I  was  a  stran 
ger ;  my  cart  upset  and  shattered ;  my  oxen  entan- 
gled, wild,  and  enraged ;  and  I,  poor  soul !  but  a 
green  hand,  to  set  all  this  disorder  right.  I  knew  no 
more  of  oxen,  than  the  ox  driver  is  sup]30sed  to  know 
of  wisdom.  After  standing  a  few  moments  survey- 
ing the  damage  and  disorder,  and  not  without  a  pre- 
sentiment that  this  trouble  would  draw  after  it  oth- 
ers, even  more  distressing,  I  took  one  end  of  the  cart 
body,  and,  by  an  extra  outlay  of  strength,  I  lifted  it 
toward  the  axle-tree,  from  which  it  had  been  violently 
flung ;  and  after  much  pulling  and  straining,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  body  of  the  cart  in  its  place. 
This  was  an  important  step  out  of  the  diflicnlty,  and 
its  performance  increased  my  courage  for  the  work 
which  remained  to  be  done.  The  cart  was  provided 
with  an  ax,  a  tool  with  which  I  had  become  pretty 


212  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

well  acquainted  in  the  ship  yard  at  Baltimore.  "With 
this,  I  cut  down  the  saplings  bj  which  my  oxen  were 
entangled,  and  again  pursued  my  journey,  with  my 
heart  in  my  mouth,  lest  the  oxen  should  again  take  it 
into  their  senseless  heads  to  cut  up  a  caper.  My  fears 
were  groundless.  Their  spree  was  over  for  the  pres- 
ent, and  the  rascals  now  moved  off  as  soberly  as 
though  their  behavior  had  been  natural  and  exem- 
plary. On  reaching  the  part  of  the  forest  where  I 
had  been,  the  day  before,  chopping  wood,  I  filled  the 
cart  with  a  heavy  load,  as  a  security  against  another 
running  away.  But,  the  neck  of  an  ox  is  equal  in 
strength  to  iron.  It  defies  all  ordinary  burdens,  when 
excited.  Tame  and  docile  to  a  proverb,  when  well 
trained,  the  ox  is  the  most  sullen  and  and  intractable 
of  animals  when  but  half  broken  to  the  yoke. 

I  now  saw,  in  my  situation,  several  points  of  simi- 
larity with  that  of  the  oxen.  They  were  property,  so 
was  I ;  they  were  to  be  broken,  so  was  I.  Covey  was 
to  break  me,  I  was  to  break  them  ;  break  and  be  bro- 
ken— such  is  life. 

Half  the  day  already  gone,  and  my  face  not  yet 
homeward !  It  required  only  two  day's  experience 
and  observation  to  teach  me,  that  such  apparent  waste 
of  time  would  not  be  lightly  overlooked  by  Covey. 
I  therefore  hurried  toward  home  ;  but,  on  reaching 
the  lane  gate,  I  met  with  the  crowning  disaster  for 
the  day.  This  gate  was  a  fair  specimen  of  southern 
handicraft.  There  were  two  huge  posts,  eighteen 
inches  in  diameter,  rough  hewed  and  square,  and 
the  heavy  gate  was  so  hung  on  one  of  these,  that  it 
opened  only  about   half  the   proper  distance.      On 


SENT   BACK   TO   THE   WOODS.  213 

arriving  here,  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  let  go  the 
end  of  the  rope  on  the  horns  of  the  "  in  hand  ox  ;  " 
and  now  as  soon  as  the  gate  was  open,  and  I  let  go  of 
it  to  get  the  rope,  again,  off  went  my  oxen — making 
nothing  of  their  load — full  tilt ;  and  in  doing  so  they 
caught  the  huge  gate  between  the  wheel  and  the  cart 
body,  literally  crushing  it  to  splinters,  and  coming 
only  within  a  few  inches  of  subjecting  me  to  a  simi- 
lar crushing,  for  I  was  just  in  advance  of  the  wheel 
when  it  struck  the  left  gate  post.  With  these  two 
hair-breadth  escapes,  I  thought  I  could  successfully 
explain  to  Mr.  Covey  the  delay,  and  avert  appre- 
hended punishment.  I  was  not  without  a  faint  hope 
of  being  commended  for  the  stern  resolution  which  I 
had  displayed  in  accomplishing  the  difficult  task — a 
task  which,  I  afterwards  learned,  even  Covey  himself 
would  not  have  undertaken,  without  first  driving  the 
oxen  for  some  time  in  the  open  field,  preparatory 
to  their  going  into  the  woods.  But,  in  this  I  was 
disappointed.  On  coming  to  him,  his  countenance 
assumed  an  aspect  of  rigid  displeasure,  and,  as  I  gave 
him  a  history  of  the  casualties  of  my  trip,  his  wolfish 
face,  with  his  greenish  eyes,  became  intensely  fero- 
cious. "  Go  back  to  the  woods  again,"  he  said,  mut- 
tering something  else  about  wasting  time.  I  hastily 
obeyed ;  but  I  had  not  gone  far  on  my  way,  when  I 
saw  him  coming  after  me.  My  oxen  now  behaved 
themselves  with  singular  propriety,  opposing  their 
present  conduct  to  my  representation  of  their  former 
antics.  I  almost  wished,  now  that  Covey  was  com- 
ing, they  would  do  something  in  keeping  with  the 
character  I  had  given  them  ;  but  no,  they  had  already 


214  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

had  tlieir  spree,  and  they  could  afford  now  to  be  extra 
good,  readily  obeying  my  orders,  and  seeming  to  un- 
derstand them  quite  as  well  as  I  did  myself.  On 
reaching  the  woods,  my  tormentor — who  seemed  all 
the  way  to  be  remarking  upon  the  good  behavior  of 
his  oxen — came  up  to  me,  and  ordered  me  to  stop  the 
cart,  accompanying  the  same  with  the  threat  that  he 
would  now  teach  me  how  to  break  gates,  and  idle 
away  my  time,  when  he  sent  me  to  the  woods. 
Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  Covey  paced  off,  in  his 
own  wiry  fashion,  to  a  large,  black-gum  tree,  the 
young  shoots  of  which  are  generally  used  for  ox  goads^ 
they  being  exceedingly  tough.  Three  of  these  goads^ 
from  four  to  six  feet  long,  he  cut  off,  and  trimmed 
up,  with  his  large  jack-knife.  This  done,  he  ordered 
me  to  take  off  my  clothes.  To  this  unreasonable  or- 
der I  made  no  reply,  but  sternly  refused  to  take  oft" 
my  clothing.  "  If  you  will  beat  me,"  thought  I,  "  you 
shall  do  so  over  my  clothes."  After  many  threats, 
which  made  no  impression  on  me,  he  rushed  at  me 
with  something  of  the  savage  fierceness  of  a  wolf,  tore 
off  the  few  and  thinly  worn  clothes  I  had  on,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  wear  out,  on  my  back,  the  heavy  goads 
which  he  had  cut  from  the  gum  tree.  This  flogging 
was  the  first  of  a  series  of  floggings ;  and  though  very 
severe,  it  was  less  so  than  many  which  came  after 
it,  and  these,  for  offenses  far  lighter  than  the  gate 
breaking. 

I  remained  with  Mr.  Covey  one  year,  (I  cannot  say 
I  lived  with  him,)  and  during  the  first  six  months  that 
I  was  there,  I  was  whipped,  either  with  sticks  or  cow- 
skins,  every  week.     Aching  bones  and  a  sore  back 


CUNNING   AND   TKIOKERY    OF   COVET.  215 

were  mj  constant  companions.     Frequent  as  the  lasli 
was  used,  Mr.  Covey  thought  less  of  it,  as  a  means 
of  breaking  down  my  spirit,  than  that  of  hard  and 
long  continued  labor.     He  worked  me  steadily,  up  to 
the  point  of  my  powers  of  endurance.      From  the 
dawn  of  day  in  the  morning,  till  the  darkness  was 
complete  in  the  evening,  I  was  kept  at  hard  work,  in 
the  field  or  the  woods.      At  certain  seasons  of  the 
year,  we  were  all  kept  in  the  field   till  eleven  and 
twelve  o'clock  at  night.     At  these  times,  Covey  would 
attend  us  in  the  field,  and  urge  us  on  v^^ith  words  or 
blows,  as  it  seemed  best  to  him.     He  had,  in  his  life, 
been  an  overseer,  and  he  well  understood  the  business 
of  slave  driving.     There  was  no  deceiving  him.     He 
knew  just  what  a  man  or  boy  could  do,  and  he  held 
both  to  strict  account.     When  he  pleased,  he  would 
work  himself,  like  a  very  Turk,  making  everything  fly 
before  him.     It  was,  however,  scarcely  necessary  for 
Mr.  Covey  to  be  really  present  in  the  field,  to  have 
his  work  go  on  industriously.     He  had  the  faculty  of 
making  us  feel  that  he  was  always  present.     By  a  se- 
ries of  adroitly  managed  surprises,  which  he  prac- 
ticed, I  was  prepared  to  expect  him  at  any  moment. 
His  plan  was,  never  to  approach  the  spot  where  his 
hands  were  at  work,  in  an  open,  manly  and   direct 
manner.     ISTo  thief  was  ever  more  artful  in  his  devi- 
ces than  this  man  Covey.     He  would  creep  and  crawl, 
in  ditches  and  gullies  ;  hide  behind  stumps  and  bushes, 
and  practice  so  much  of  the  cunning  of  the  serpent, 
that   Bill   Smith   and  I — between   ourselves — never 
called  him  by  any  other  name  than  "  the  snaked     We 
fancied  that  in  his  eyes  and  his  gait  we  could  see  a 


^ 


216  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

snakish  resemblance.  One  half  of  his  proficiency  in 
the  art  of  negro  breaking,  consisted,  I  should  think, 
in  this  species  of  cunning.  We  were  never  secure. 
He  could  see  or  hear  us  nearly  all  the  time.  He  was, 
to  us,  behind  every  stump,  tree,  bush  and  fence  on  the 
plantation.  He  carried  this  kind  of  trickery  so  far, 
that  he  would  sometimes  mount  his  horse,  and  nlake 
believe  he  was  going  to  St.  Michael's ;  and,  in  thirty 
minutes  afterward,  you  might  find  his  horse  tied  in 
the  woods,  and  the  snake-like  Covey  lying  flat  in  the 
ditch,  with  his  head  lifted  above  its  edge,  or  in  a  fence 
corner,  watching  every  movement  of  the  slaves !  I 
have  known  him  walk  up  to  us  and  give  us  special  or- 
ders, as  to  our  work,  in  advance,  as  if  he  were  leaving 
home  with  a  view  to  being  absent  several  days  ;  and 
before  he  got  half  way  to  the  house,  he  would  avail 
himself  of  our  inattention  to  his  movements,  to  tura 
short  on  his  heels,  conceal  himself  behind  a  fence  cor- 
ner or  a  tree,  and  watch  us  until  the  going  down  of 
the  sun.  Mean  and  contemptible  as  is  all  this,  it  is 
in  keeping  with  the  character  which  the  life  of  a  slave- 
holder is  calculated  to  produce.  There  is  no  earthly 
inducement,  in  the  slave's  condition,  to  incite  him  to 
labor  faithfully.  The  fear  of  punishm.ent  is  the  sole 
motive  for  any  sort  of  industry,  with  him.  Knowing 
this  fact,  as  the  slaveholder  does,  and  judging  the 
slave  by  himself,  he  naturally  concludes  the  slave 
will  be  idle  whenever  the  cause  for  this  fear  is  absent. 
Hence,  all  sorts  of  petty  deceptions  are  practiced,  to 
inspire  this  fear. 

But,  with  Mr.  Covey,  trickery  was  natural.     Ev- 
erything in  the  shape  of  learning  or  religion,  which 


FAMILT   WOESHIP.  217 

he  possessed,  was  made  to  conform  to  this  semi -lying 
propensity.  He  did  not  seem  conscious  that  the  prac- 
tice had  anything  unmanly,  base  or  contemptible 
about  it.  It  was  a  part  of  an  important  system,  with 
him,  essential  to  the  relation  of  master  and  slave.  I 
thought  I  saw,  in  his  very  religious  devotions,  this 
controlling  element  of  his  character.  A  long  prayer 
at  night  made  up  for  the  short  prayer  in  the  morning; 
and  few  men  could  seem  more  devotional  than  he, 
when  he  had  nothing  else  to  do. 

Mr.  Covey  was  not  content  with  the  cold  style  of 
family  worship,  adopted  in  these  cold  latitudes,  which 
begin  and  end  with  a  simple  prayer.  jSTo  !  the  voice 
of  praise,  as  well  as  of  prayer,  must  be  heard  in  his 
house,  night  and  morning.  At  first,  I  was  called  upon 
to  bear  some  part  in  these  exercises ;  but  the  repeated 
flogging  given  me  by  Covey,  turned  the  whole  tiling 
into  mockery.  He  was  a  poor  singer,  and  mainly  re- 
lied on  me  for  raising  the  hymn  for  the  family,  and 
when  I  failed  to  do  so,  he  was  thrown  into  much  con- 
fusion. I  do  not  think  that  he  ever  abused  me  on  ac- 
count of  these  vexations.  His  relio;ion  was  a  thins; 
altogether  apart  from  his  worldly  concerns.  He  knew 
nothing  of  it  as  a  holy  principle,  directing  and  con- 
trolling his  daily  life,  making  the  latter  conform  to 
the  requirements  of  the  gospel.  One  or  two  facts 
will  illustrate  his  character  better  than  a  volume  of 
generalities. 

I  have  already  said,  or  implied,  that  Mr.  Edward  Co- 
vey was  a  poor  man.    He  was,  in  fact,  just  commencing 
to  lav  the  foundation  of  his  fortune,  as  fortune  is  re- 
garded  in  a  slave  state.    The  first  condition  of  wealth 
J 


u 


218  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

and  respectability  there,  being  the  ownership  of  human 
property,  every  nerve  is  strained,  by  the  poor  man,  to 
obtain  it,  and  very  little  regard  is  had  to  the  manner 
of  obtaining  it.  In  jDursuit  of  this  object,  pious  as 
Mr.  Covey  was,  he  proved  himself  to  be  as  unscrupu- 
lous and  base  as  the  worst  of  his  neighbors.  In  the 
beginning,  he  was  only  able — as  he  said — "  to  buy 
one  slave ; "  and,  scandalous  and  shocking  as  is  the 
^  fact,  he  boasted  that  he  bought  her  simply  "  as  a 
hi^eeder^^  But  the  worst  is  not  told  in  this  naked  state- 
ment. This  young  woman  (Caroline  was  her  name) 
was  virtually  compelled  by  Mr.  Covey  to  abandon  her- 
self to  the  object  for  which  he  had  purchased  her; 
and  the  result  was,  the  birth  of  twins  at  the  end  of 
the  year.  At  this  addition  to  his  human  stock,  both 
Edward  Covey  and  his  wife,  Susan,  were  extatic  with 
joy.  !No  one  dreamed  of  reproaching  the  woman,  or 
of  findino;  fault  with  the  hired  man — Bill  Smith — the 
father  of  the  children,  for  Mr.  Covey  himself  had 
locked  the  two  up  together  every  night,  thus  inviting 
the  result. 

But  I  will  pursue  this  revolting  subject  no  further. 
No  better  illustration  of  the  unchaste  and  demoralizing: 
character  of  slavery  can  be  found,  than  is  furnished 
in  the  fact  that  this  professedly  christian  slaveholder, 
amidst  all  his  prayers  and  hymns,  v/as  shamelessly 
and  boastfully  encouraging,  and  actually  compelling, 
in  his  own  house,  undisguised  and  unmitigated  forni- 
cation, as  a  means  of  increasing  his  human  stock.  I 
may  remark  here,  that,  while  this  fact  will  be  read 
with  disgust  and  shame  at  the  north,  it  will  be  laughed 
at,  as  smart  and  praiseworthy  in  Mr.  Covey,  at  the 


THE   BITTEREST  DREGS  OF    SLAVERY.  219 

BOiitli ;  for  a  man  is  no  more  condemned  there  for  buy- 
ing a  woman  and  devoting  her  to  this  life  of  dis- 
honor, than  for  buying  a  cow,  and  raising  stock  from 
her.  The  same  rules  are  observed,  with  a  view  to 
increasing  the  number  and  quality  of  the  former,  as 
of  the  latter. 

I  will  here  reproduce  what  I  said  of  my  own  expe- 
rience in  this  wretched  jplace,  more  than  ten  years  ago  ; 

"  If  at  any  one  time  of  my  life,  more  than  another,  I  was 
made  to  drink  the  bitterest  dregs  of  slavery,  that  time  was  du- 
ring the  first  six  months  of  my  stay  with  Mr.  Covey.  We 
were  worked  all  weathers.  It  was  never  too  hot  or  too  cold ; 
it  could  never  rain,  blow,  snow,  or  hail  too  hard  for  us  to  work 
in  the  field.  Work,  work,  work,  was  scarcely  more  the  order 
of  the  day  than  of  the  night.  The  longest  days  were  too  short 
for  him,  and  the  shortest  nights  were  too  long  for  him.  I  was 
somewhat  unmanageable  when  I  first  went  there ;  but  a  few 
months  of  this  discipline  tamed  me.  Mr.  Covey  succeeded  in 
breaking  me.  I  was  broken  in  body,  soul  and  spirit.  My 
natural  elasticity  was  crushed ;  my  intellect  languished ;  the 
disposition  to  read  departed  ;  the  cheerful  spark  that  lingered 
about  my  eye  died ;  the  dark  night  of  slavery  closed  in  upon 
me ;  and  behold  a  man  transformed  into  a  brute  ! 

"  Sunday  was  my  only  leisure  time.  I  spent  this  in  a  sort 
of  beast-like  stupor,  between  sleep  and  wake,  under  'some  large 
tree.  At  times,  I  would  rise  up,  a  flash  of  energetic  freedom 
would  dart  through  my  soul,  accompanied  with  a  faint  beam  of 
hope,  that  flickered  for  a  moment,  and  then  vanished.  I  sank 
down  again,  mourning  over  my  wretched  condition.  I  was  some- 
times prompted  to  take  my  hfe,  and  that  of  Covey,  but  was  pre- 
vented by  a  combination  of  hope  and  fear.  My  sufferings  on  this 
plantation  seem  now  like  a  dream  rather  than  a  stern  reality. 


220  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

"  Our  house  stood  within  a  few  rods  of  the  Chesapeake  bay, 
whose  broad  bosom  was  ever  white  with  sails  from  every  quar- 
ter of  the  habitable  globe.  Those  beautiful  vessels,  robed  in 
purest  white,  so  delightful  to  the  eye  of  freemen,  were  to  me 
so  many  shrouded  ghosts,  to  terrify  and  torment  me  with 
thoughts  of  my  wretched  condition.  I  have  often,  in  the  deep 
stillness  of  a  summer's  Sabbath^  stood  all  alone  upon  the  banks 
of  that  noble  bay,  and  traced,  with  saddened  heart  and  tearful 
eye,  the  countless  number  of  sails  moving  off  to  the  mighty- 
ocean.  The  sight  of  these  always  affected  me  powerfully. 
My  thoughts  would  compel  utterance ;  and  there,  with  no  au- 
dience but  the  Almighty.  I  would  pour  out  my  soul's  complaint 
in  my  rude  way,  with  an  apostrophe  to  the  moving  multitude 
of  ships : 

"  '  You  are  loosed  from  your  moorings,  and  free ;  I  am  fist 
in  my  chains,  and  am  a  slave !  You  move  merrily  before  the 
gentle  gale,  and  I  sadly  before  the  bloody  whip  !  You  are  free- 
dom's swift-winged  angels,  that  fly  around  the  world  ;  I  am  con- 
fined in  bands  of  iron!  .0,  that  I  were  free!  O,  that  I  were 
on  one  of  your  gallant  decks,  and  under  your  protecting  wing ! 
Alas !  betwixt  me  and  you  the  turbid  waters  roll.  Go  on,  go 
on.  O  that  I  could  also  go  !  Could  I  but  sw^im  !  if  I  could 
fly  !  O,  why  was  I  born  a  man,  of  whom  to  make  a  brute  ! 
The  glad  ship  is  gone  ;  she  hides  in  the  dim  distance.  I  am 
left  in  the  hottest  hell  of  unending  slavery.  O  God,  save  me ! 
God,  deliver  me  !  Let  me  be  free!  Is  there  any  God  ?  Why 
am  I  a  slave?  I  will  run  away.  .1  will  not  stand  it.  Get 
caught,  or  get  clear,  I'll  trv  it,  I  had  as  well  die  with  airue  as 
with  fever.  I  have  only  one  life  to  lose.  I  had  as  well  be  killed 
running  as  die  standing.  Only  think  of  it;  one  hundred  miles 
straight  north,  and  latnfree!  Try  it?  Yes!  God  helping 
me,  1  v;ill.  It  cannot  be  that  I  shall  live  and  die  a  slave.  I 
will  take  to  the  water.  This  very  bay  shall  yet  bear  me  into  free- 
doni.    The  steamboats  steered  iu  a  north-east  coast  from  North 


AlTGinSH   BEYOND   DESCRIPTION.  221 

Point.  I  will  do  the  same  ;  and  when  I  get  to  the  head  of  the 
bay,  I  will  turn  my  canoe  adrift,  and  walk  straight  through 
Delaware  into  Pennsylvania.  When  I  get  there,  I  shall  not  be 
required  to  have  a  pass ;  I  will  travel  without  being  disturbed. 
Let  but  the  first  opportunity  offer,  and,  come  what  will,  I  am 
off.  Meanwhile,  I  will  try  to  bear  up  under  the  yoke.  I  am 
not  the  only  slave  in  the  world.  Why  should  I  fret  1  I  can 
bear  as  much  as  any  of  them.  Besides,  I  am  but  a  boy,  and 
all  boys  are  bound  to  some  one.  It  may  be  that  my  misery 
in  slavery  will  only  increase  my  happiness  when  I  get  free. 
There  is  a  better  day  coming.' 


■>  5) 


I  shall  never  be  able  to  narrate  the  mental  experi- 
ence through  which  it  was  my  lot  to  pass  during  my 
stay  at  Covey's.  I  was  completely  wrecked,  changed 
and  bewildered ;  goaded  almost  to  madness  at  one 
time,  and  at  another  reconciling  myself  to  my  wretched 
condition.  Everything  in  the  way  of  kindness,  which 
I  had  experienced  at  Baltimore ;  all  my  former  hopes 
and  aspirations  for  usefulness  in  the  world,  and  the 
happy  moments  spent  in  the  exercises  of  religion,  con- 
trasted with  my  then  present  lot,  but  increased  my 
anguish. 

I  suffered  bodily  as  well  as  mentally.  I  had  neither 
suflBcient  time  in  which  to  eat  or  to  sleep,  except  on 
Sundays.  The  over  work,  and  the  brutal  chastise- 
ments of  which  I  was  the  victim,  combined  with  that 
ever-gnawing  and  soul-devouring  thought — "  T  am  a 
slave  —  a  slave  for  life  —  a  slave  with  no  rational 
ground  to  hope  for  freedom  " — rendered  me  a  living 
embodiment  of  mental  and  physical  wretchedness. 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

ANOTHER  PRESSURE  OF  THE  TYRANT'S  YlCE. 

EXPERTEXCE    AT    COVEt's    St^MMED  UP^-FIRST   SIX  MONTHS    SEVERER    THAI< 

.     THE    SECOND PRELIMINARIES  TO  THE  CHANGE REASONS    FOR    NARRATING 

THE     CIRCUMSTANCES SCENE    IN     THE    TREADING    YARD— AL'THOR    TAKEX 

ILL UNUSUAL  BRUTALITY  OF  COVEY AUTHOR  ESCAPES  TO  ST.  MICHAEL's— 

THE     PURSUIT SUFFERING    IN    THE   WOODS DRIVEN    BACK    AGAIN  TO  CO- 

VEY's BEARING     OF     "MASTER     THOMAs" THE    SLAVE  IS  NEVER  SICK 

NATURAL    TO    EXPECT    SLAVES    TO    FEIGN  SICKNESS— LAZINESS  OF    SI-ATE* 
HOLDERS. 

The  foregoing  chapter,  with  all  its  horrid  incidents 
and  shocking  features,  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  repre- 
sentation of  the  first  six  months  of  my  life  at  Covey's. 
The  reader  has  but  to  repeat,  in  his  own  mind,  once  a 
week,  the  scene  in  the  woods,  where  Covey  subjected 
me  to  his  merciless  lash,  to  have  a  true  idea  of  my 
bitter  experience  there,  during  the  first  period  of  the 
breaking  process  through  which  Mr.  Covey  carried 
me.  I  have  no  heart  to  repeat  each  separate  trans- 
action, in  which  I  was  a  victim  of  his  violence  and 
brutality.  Such  a  narration  would  fill  a  volume  much 
larger  than  the  present  one.  I  aim  only  to  give  the 
reader  a  truthful  impression  of  my  slave  life,  without 
unnecessarily  affecting  him  with  harrowing  details. 

As  I  have  elsewhere  intimated  that  my  hardships 
were  much  greater  during  the  first  six  months  of  my 
stay  at  Covey's,  than  during  the  remainder  of  the  year, 


SCENE  m  THE  TEEADING  YAED.  •*    223 

and  as  the  change  in  my  condition  was  owing  to  causes 
which  may  help  the  reader  to  a  better  understanding 
of  human  nature,  when  subjected  to  the  terrible  ex- 
tremities of  slavery,  I  will  narrate  the  circumstances 
of  this  change,  although  I  may  seem  thereby  to  ap- 
plaud my  own  courage. 

You  have,  dear  reader,  seen  me  humbled,  degraded, 
broken  down,  enslaved,  and  brutalized,  and  you  un- 
derstand how  it  was  done  ;  now  let  us  see  the  con- 
verse of  all  this,  and  how  it  was  brought  about ;  and 
this  will  take  us  throuo'h  the  year  1834. 

On  one  of  the  hottest  days  of  the  month  of  August, 
of  the  year  just  mentioned,  had  the  reader  been  pass- 
ing through  Covey's  farm,  he  might  have  seen  me  at 
work,  in  what  is  there  called  the  "  treading  yard" — a 
yard  upon  which  wheat  is  trodden  out  from  the  straw, 
by  the  horses'  feet.  I  was  there,  at  work,  feeding  the 
"fan,"  or  rather  bringing  wheat  to  the  fan,  while  Bill 
Smith  was  feeding.  Our  force  consisted  of  Bill  Hughes, 
Bill  Smith,  and  a  slave  by  the  name  of  Eli ;  the  lat- 
ter having  been  hired  for  this  occasion.  The  work 
was  simple,  and  required  strength  and  activity,  rather 
than  any  skill  or  intelligence,  and  yet,  to  one  entirely 
unused  to  such  work,  it  came  very  hard.  The  heat 
was  intense  and  overpowering,  and  there  was  much 
hurry  to  get  the  wheat,  trodden  out  that  day,  through 
the  fan ;  since,  if  that  work  was  d(5ne  an  hour  before 
sundown,  the  hands  would  have,  according  to  a  prom- 
ise of  Covey,  that  hour  added  to  their  night's  rest.  I 
was  not  behind  any  of  them  in  the  wish  to  complete 
the  day's  work  before  sundown,  and,  hence,  I  strug- 
gled with  all  my  might  to  get  the  work  forward.    The 


224:  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

promise  of  one  hours  repose  on  a  week  day,  was  suf- 
ficient to  quicken  my  pace,  and  to  spur  me  on  to  ex- 
tra endeavor.  Besides,  we  had  all  planned  to  go  fish- 
ing, and  I  certainly  wished  to  have  a  hand  in  that. 
But  I  was  disappointed,  and  the  day  turned  out  to  be 
one  of  the  bitterest  I  ever  experienced.  About  three 
o'clock,  while  the  sun  was  pouring  down  his  burning 
rays,  and  not  a  breeze  was  stirring,  I  broke  down  ; 
my  strength  failed  me  ;  I  was  seized  with  a  violent 
aching  of  the  head,  attended  with  extreme  dizziness, 
and  trembling  in  every  limb.  Finding  what  was  com- 
ing, and  feeling  it  would  never  do  to  stop  work,  I 
nerved  myself  up,  and  staggered  on  until  I  fell  by  the 
side  of  the  wheat  fan,  feeling  that  the  earth  had  fiillen 
upon  me.  This  brought  the  entire  work  to  a  dead 
stand.  There  was  work  for  four ;  each  one  had  his 
part  to  perform,  and  each  part  depended  on  the  other, 
so  that  when  one  stopped,  all  were  compelled  to  stop. 
Covey,  who  had  now  become  my  dread,  as  well  as 
my  tormentor,  was  at  the  house,  abou**  a  hundred 
yards  from  where  I  was  fanning,  and  instantly,  upon 
hearing  the  fan  stop,  he  came  down  to  the  treading 
yard,  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  our  stopping.  Bill 
Smith  told  him  I  was  sick,  and  that  I  was  unable  lon- 
ger to  bring  wheat  to  the  fan. 

I  had,  by  this  time,  crawled  away,  under  the  side 
of  a  post-and-rail  fence,  in  the  shade,  and  was  exceed- 
ingly ill.  The  intense  heat  of  the  sun,  the  heavy  dust 
rising  from  the  fan,  the  stooping,  to  take  up  the  wheat 
from  the  yard,  together  with  the  hurrying,  to  get 
through,  had  caused  a  rush  of  blood  to  my  head.  In 
this  condition.  Covey  finding  out  where  I  was,  came 


UNUSUAL  BKUTALITY  OF  COYEY.         225 

to  me;  and,  after  standing  over  me  a  wliile,  he  asked 
me  what  the  matter  was.  I  tokl  him  as  well  as  I 
could,  for  it  was  with  difficulty  that  I  could  speak. 
He  then  gave  me  a  savage  kick  in  the  side,  which 
jarred  my  whole  frame,  and  commanded  me  to  get 
up.  The  man  had  obtained  complete  control  over 
me  ;  and  if  he  had  commanded  me  to  do  any  possible 
thing,  I  should,  in  my  then  state  of  mind,  have  endea- 
vored to  comply.  I  made  an  effort  to  rise,  but  fell 
back  in  the  attempt,  before  gaining  my  feet.  The 
brute  now  gave  me  another  heavy  kick,  and  again 
told  me  to  rise.  I  again  tried  to  rise,  and  succeeded 
in  gaining  my  feet ;  but,  upon  stooping  to  get  the  tub 
with  which  I  was  feeding  the  fan,  I  again  staggered 
and  fell  to  the  ground ;  and  I  must  have  so  fallen,  had 
I  been  sure  that  a  hundred  bullets  would  have  pierced 
me,  as  the  consequence.  While  down,  in  this  sad 
condition,  and  perfectly  helpless,  the  merciless  negro 
breaker  took  up  the  hickory  slab,  with  which  Hughes 
had  been  striking  off  the  wheat  to  a  level  with  the 
sides  of  the  half  bushel  measure,  (a  very  hard  weapon,) 
and  with  the  shari?  edge  of  it,  he  dealt  me  a  heavy 
blow  on  my  head  which  made  a  large  gash,  and  caused 
the  blood  to  run  freely,  saying,  at  the  same  time,  "  If 
you  have  got  the  headache^  Pllcure  youP  This  done,' 
he  ordered  me  again  to  rise,  but  I  made  no  effort  to 
do  so ;  for  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  it  was  use- 
less, and  that  the  heartless  monster  might  noio  do  his 
worst ;  he  could  but  kill  me,  and  that  might  put  me 
out  of  my  misery.  Finding  me  unable  to  rise,  or  ra- 
ther des^^airing  of  my  doing  so.  Covey  left  me,  with 
a  view  to  getting  on  with  the  w^ork  without  me.  I 
J*  15 


\ 


220  LIFE  AS    A  SLAVE. 

was  bleeding  very  freely,  and  my  face  was  soon  cov- 
ered with  my  warm  blood.     Cruel  and  merciless  as 
was  tlie  motive  that  dealt  that  blow,  dear  reader,  the 
womid  was   fortmiate  for  me.     Bleeding  was  never 
more  efficacious.     The  pain  in  my  head  speedily  aba- 
ted, and   I  was   soon  able  to  rise.     Covey  had,  as  I 
have  said,  now  left  me  to  my  fate;  and  the  question 
was,  shall  I  return   to  my  work,  or  shall  I  find  my 
way  to  St.  Michael's,  and  make  Capt.  Auld  acquain- 
ted with  the  atrocious  cruelty  of  his  brother  Covey, 
and  beseech  him  to  get  me  another  master  ?    Remem- 
bering the  object  he  had  in  view,  in  placing  me  un- 
der the  management  of  Covey,  and  further,  his  cruel 
treatment  of  my  poor  crippled  cousin,  Ilenny,  and  his 
meanness  in  the  matter  of  feeding  and  clothing  his 
slaves,  there  was  little  ground  to  hope  for  a  favorable 
reception  at  the  hands  of  Capt.  Thomas  Auld.     'Ne- 
vertheless,  I  resolved  to  go  straight  to  Capt.  Auld, 
thinking  that,  if  not  animated  by  motivjgs  of  humani- 
ty, he  might  be  induced  to  interfere  on   my  behalf 
from  selfish  considerations.     "  He  cannot,"  thought  I, 
"  allow  his  property  to  be  thus  bruised  and  battered, 
marred  and  defaced ;  and  I  will  go  to  him,  and  tell 
him  the  simple  truth  about  the  matter."     In  order  to 
get  to  St.  Michael's,  by  the  most  favorable  and  direct 
road,  I  must  walk  seven  miles ;  and  this,  in  my  sad 
condition,  vv^as  no  easy  performance.     I  had  already 
lost  much  blood ;  I  was  exhausted  by  over  exertion ; 
my  sides  were   sore  from  the  heavy  blows  planted 
there  by  the  stout  boots  of  Mr.  Covey ;  and  I  was,  in 
every  way,  in  an  unfavorable  ^^light  for  the  journey. 
I  however  watched  my  chance,  while  the  cruel  and 


THE    PURSUIT.  227 

cunning  Covey  was  looking  in  an  opposite  direction, 
and  started  off,  across  the  field,  for  St.  Michael's.  This 
was  a  daring  step ;  if  it  failed,  it  would  only  exasper- 
ate Covey,  and  increase  the  rigors  of  my  bondage,  du- 
ring the  remainder  of  my  term  of  service  under  him  ; 
but  the  step  w^as  taken,  and  I  must  go  forward.  I 
succeeded  in  getting  nearly  half  way  across  the  broad 
field,  toward  the  woods,  before  Mr.  Covey  observed 
me.  I  was  still  bleeding,  and  the  exertion  of  running 
had  started  the  blood  afresh.  "  Come  hack!  Come 
hack !  "  vociferated  Covey,  with  threats  of  what  he 
would  do  if  I  did  not  return  instantly.  But,  disre- 
garding his  calls  and  his  threats,  I  pressed  on  toward 
the  woods  as  fast  as  my  feeble  state  would  allow. 
Seeing  no  signs  of  my  stopping.  Covey  caused  his 
horse  to  be  brought  out  and  saddled,  as  if  he  intended 
to  pursue  me.  The  race  was  now  to  be  an  unequal 
one  ;  and,  thinking  I  might  be  overhauled  by  him,  if 
I  kept  the  main  road,  I  walked  nearly  the  whole  dis- 
tance in  the  woods,  keeping  far  enough  from  the  road 
to  avoid  detection  and  pursuit.  But,  I  had  not  gone 
far,  before  my  little  strength  again  failed  me,  and  I 
laid  down.  The  blood  was  still  oozinc:  from  the 
wound  in  my  head  ;  and,  for  a  time,  I  sufi'ered  more 
than  I  can  describe.  There  I  was,  in  the  deep  woods, 
sick  and  emaciated,  pursued  by  a  wretch  whose  char-^ 
acter  for  revolting  cruelty  beggars  all  opprobrious 
speech — bleeding,  and  almost  bloodless.  I  was  not, 
without  the  fear  of  bleedino;  to  death.  The  thousfht 
of  dying  in  the  woods,  all  alone,  and  of  being  torn 
to  pieces  by  the  buzzards,  had  not  yet  been  ren- 
dered tolerable  by  my  many  troubles  and  hardships, 


228  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

and  1  was  glad  when  the  shade  of  the  trees,  anil  the 
cool  evening  breeze,  combined  with  my  matted  hair 
to  stop  the  floAV  of  blood.  After  lying  there  about 
three  quarters  of  an  hour,  brooding  over  the  singular 
and  mournful  lot  to  which  I  was  doomed,  my  mind 
passing  over  the  whole  scale  or  circle  of  belief  and 
unbelief,  from  faith  in  the  overruling  providence  of 
God,  to  the  blackest  atheism,  I  again  took  up  my  jour- 
ney toward  St.  Michael's,  more  weary  and  sad  than 
in  the  morning  when  I  left  Thomas  Auld's  for  the 
home  of  Mr.  Covey.  I  was  bare-footed  and  bare- 
headed, and  in  my  shirt  sleeves.  The  way  was  through 
bogs  and  briers,  and  I  tore  my  feet  often  duriug  the 
journey.  I  was  full  "five  hours  in  going  the  seven  or 
eight  miles  ;  partly,  because  of  the  difiiculties  of  the 
way,  and  partly,  because  of  the  feebleness  induced  by 
my  illness,  bruises  and  loss  of  blood.  On  gaining  my 
masters  store,  I  presented  an  appearance  of  Vr^-etch- 
edness  and  woe,  fitted  to  move  anv  but  a  heart  of 
stone.  From  the  crown  of  my  head  to  the  sole  of  my 
feet,  there  were  marks  of  blood.  My  hair  was  all 
clotted  with  dust  and  blood,  and  the  back  of  my  shirt 
was  literally  stiff  with  the  same.  Briers  and  thorns 
had  scarred  and  torn  my  feet  and  legs,  leaving  blood 
marks  there.  Had  I  escaped  from  a  den  of  tigers,  I 
could  not  have  looked  worse  than  I  did  on  reaching]: 
St.  Michael's.  In  this  unhappy  plight,  I  appeared  be- 
fore my  professedly  christian  master,  humbly  to  in- 
voke the  interposition  of  his  power  and  authority,  to 
protect  me  from  farther  abuse  and  violence.  I  had 
begun  to  hope,  during  the  latter  part  of  iny  tedious 
journey  toward  St.  Michael's,  that  Oapt.  Auld  would 


BEAELNG  OF  MASTEK  TUOMAS.  221)  ♦ 

now  show  himself  in  a  nobler  light  than  I  had  ever 
before  seen  him.  I  was  disappointed.  I  had  jumped 
from  a  sinking  ship  into  the  sea  ;  I  had  fled  from  the 
tiger  to  something  worse.  I  told  him  all  the  circum- 
stances, as  well  as  I  could ;  how  I  was  endeavoring  to 
please  Covej  ;  how  liard  I  was  at  work  in  the  present 
instance  ;  hovv^  unwillingly  I  sunk  down  under  the 
heat,  toil  and  pain ;  the  brutal  manner  in  which  Co- 
vey had  kicked  me  in  the  side  ;  the  gash  cut  in  my 
head  ;  my  hesitation  about  troubling  him  (Capt.  Auld) 
with  complaints  ;  but,  that  now  I  felt  it  w^ould  not  be 
best  longer  to  conceal  from  him  the  outrages  commit- 
ted on  me  from  time  to  time  by  Covey.  At  first,  master 
Thomas  seemed  somewhat  afiected  by  the  story  of  my 
wrongs,  but  he  soon  repressed  his  feelings  and  became 
cold  as  iron.  It  was  im]30ssible — as  I  stood  before 
him  at  the  first — for  him  to  seem  indiff'erent.  I  dis- 
tinctly saw  his  human  nature  asserting  its  conviction 
against  the  slave  system,  which  made  cases  like  mine 
possible  /  but,  as  I  have  said,  humanity  fell  before  the 
systematic  tyranny  of  slavery.  He  first  walked  the 
floor,  apparently  much  agitated  by  my  story,  and  the 
sad  spectacle  I  presented ;  but,  presently,  it  vras  his 
turn  to  talk.  He  began  moderately,  by  finding  excuses 
for  Covey,  and  ending  with  a  full  justification  of  him, 
and  a  passionate  condemnation  of  me.  ''  He  had 
no  doubt  I  deserved  the  floo-o-ino*.  He  did  not  believe 
I  was  sick ;  I  was  only  endeavoring  to  get  rid  of  work. 
My  dizziness  was  laziness,  and  Covey  did  right  to 
flog  me,  as  he  had  done."  After  thus  fairly  annihi- 
lating me,  and  rousing  himself  by  his  own  eloquence, 


.  230  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

lie  fiercel}^  demanded  what  I  wished  hivi  to  do  in  the 
case  ! 

With  sucli  a  complete  knock-down  to  all  my  hopes, 
as  he  liad  given  me,  and  feeling,  as  I  did,  my  entire 
subjection  to  his  power,  I  had  very  little  heart  to  re- 
ply. I  must  not  affirm  my  innocence  of  the  allega- 
tions which  he  liad  piled  up  against  me ;  for  that 
would  be  impudence,  and  would  probably  call  down 
fresh  violence  as  well  as  wrath  upon  me.  The  guilt 
of  a  slave  is  always,  and  everywhere,  presumed  ;  and 
the  innocence  of  the  slaveholder  or  the  slave  employ- 
er, is  always  asserted.  The  word  of  the  slave,  against 
this  presumption,  is  generally  treated  as  impudence, 
worthy  of  punishment.  "Do  you  contradict  me,  you 
rascal  ?"  is  a  final  silencer  of  counter  statements  from 
the  lips  of  a  slave. 

Calming  down  a  little  in  view  of  my  silence  and 
hesitation,  and,  perhaps,  from  a  rapid  glance  at  the 
picture  of  misery  I  presented,  he  inquired  again, 
"  what  I  would  have  him  do  1 "  Thus  invited  a  se- 
cond time,  I  told  Master  Thomas  I  wished  him  to  al- 
low me  to  get  a  new  home  and  to  find  a  new  master ; 
that,  as  sure  as  I  went  back  to  live  with  Mr.  Covey 
again,  I  should  be  killed  by  him ;  that  he  would  ne- 
ver forgive  my  coming  to  him  (Capt  Auld)  with  a 
complaint  against  him  (Covey  ;)  that,  since  I  had  lived 
with  him,  he  had  almost  crushed  my  spirit,  and  I 
believed  that  he  would  ruin  me  for  future  service ; 
that  my  life  was  not  safe  in  his  hands.  This,  Master 
Thomas  {my  hr other  in  the  church)  regarded  as  "  non- 
sense." "  There  was  no  danger  of  Mr.  Covey's  kill- 
ing mc  ;  he  was  a  good  man,  industrious  and  religious, 


THE  SLAVE  IS  NEVER  SICK.  231  . 

and  he  would  not  think  of  removing  me  from  that 
home ;  "  besides,"  said  he, — and  this  I  fomid  was  the 
most  distressing  thought  of  all  to  him — "  if  jon  should 
leave  Covey  now,  that  your  year  has  but  half  expired, 
I  should  lose  your  wages  for  the  entire  year.  You 
belong  to  Mr.  Covey  for  one  year,  and  you  must  go 
hack  to  him,  come  what  will.  You  must  not  trouble 
me  with  any  more  stories  about  Mr.  Covey ;  and  if 
you  do  not  go  immediately  home,  I  will  get  hold  of 
you  myself."  This  was  just  what  I  expected,  when  I 
found  he  had  prejudged  the  case  against  me.  "  But, 
Sir,"  I  said,  "  I  am  sick  and  tired,  and  I  cannot  get 
home  to-night."  At  this,  he  again  relented,  and  finally 
he  allowed  me  to  remain  all  night  at  St.  Michael's  ; 
but  said  I  must  be  off  early  in  the  morning,  and  con- 
cluded his  directions  by  making  me  swallow  a  huge 
dose  of  ej^som  salts — about  tlie  only  medicine  ever  ad- 
ministered to  slaves. 

'  It  was  quite  natural  for  Master  Thomas  to  presume 
I  was  feigning  sickness  to  escape  work,  for  he  proba- 
bly thought  that  were  Jie  in  the  place  of  a  slave — with 
no  wages  for  his  work,  no  praise  for  well  doing,  no 
motive  for  toil  but  the  lash — he  would  try  every  pos- 
sible scheme  by  which  to  escape  labor.  I  say  I  have 
no  doubt  of  this ;  the  reason  is,  that  there  are  not,  un- 
der the  whole  heavens,  a  set  of  men  who  cultivate 
such  an  intense  dread  of  labor  as  do  the  slaveholders. 
The  charge  of  laziness  against  the  slaves  is  ever  on  their 
lips,  and  is  the  standing  apology  for  every  species  of 
cruelty  and  brutality.  These  men  literally  "  bind 
heavy  burdens,  grievous   to  be  borne,  and  lay  them 


232  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

on   men's  shoulders ;   but  tliej,  themselves,  will  not 
move  them  witli  one  of  their  fins^ers." 

My  kind  readers  shall  have,  in  the  next  chapter — 
what  they  were  led,  perhaps,  to  expect  to  find  in  this 
— namely :  an  account  of  my  partial  disenthrallment 
from  the  tyranny  of  Covey,  and  the  marked  change 
which  it  brousfht  about. 


CHAPTEE  XYIl. 

THE  LAST  FLOGGING. 


A  SLEEPLESS  NIGHT RETURN  TO  COVEy's PURSUED  BY  COVEY THE  CHASE 

DEFEATED VENGEANCE    POSTPONED MUSINGS    IN    THE  WOODS THE  AL- 
TERNATIVE  DEPLORABLE  SPECTACLE NIGHT    IN  THE  WOODS EXPECTED 

ATTACK ACCOSTED    BY  SANDY,   A  FRIEND,   NOT    A    HUNTER SANDy's    HOS- 
PITALITY  THE  "  ASH  CAKE  "  SUPPER THE  INTERVIEW  WITH  SANDY HIS 

ADVICE SANDY  A  CONJURER  AS  WELL  AS  A    CHRISTIAN — -THE  MAGIC  ROOT 

STRANGE   MEETING  WITH  COVEY HIS  MANNER COVEy's  SUNDAY  FACK 

author's     DEFENSIVE    RESOLVE THE     FIGHT THE    VICTORY,     AND    ITS 

RESULTS. 


Sleep  itself  does  not  always  come  to  the  relief  of  tlie 
weary  in  body,  and  the  broken  in  spirit ;  especially 
when  past  troubles  only  foreshadow  coming  disasters. 
The  last  hope  had  been  extinguished.  My  master, 
who  I  did  not  venture  to  hope  would  protect  me  as 
a  tnan^  had  even  now  refused  to  protect  me  as  Ids /prop- 
erty ;  and  had  cast  me  back,  covered  with  reproaches 
and  bruises,  into  the  hands  of  a  stranger  to  that  mercy 
which  was  the  soul  of  the  religion  he  professed.  May 
the  reader  never  spend  such  a  night  as  that  allotted 
to  me,  previous  to  the  morning  which  was  to  herald 
my  return  to  the  den  of  horrors  from  which  I  had 
made  a  temporary  escape. 

■  I  remained  all  night — sleep  I  did  not — at  St.  Mi- 
chael's ;  and  in  the  morning  (Saturday)  I  started  off, 
according  to  the  order  of  Master  Thomas,  feeling  that 


234  LIFE   AS   A   SLAVIC. 

I  had  no  friend  on  earth,  and  doubting  if  I  had  one 
in  heaven.  I  reached  Covey's  about  nine  o'clock ; 
and  just  as  I  stepped  into  the  field,  before  I  had 
reached  the  house,  Covey,  true  to  his  snakish  habits, 
darted  out  at  me  from  a  fence  corner,  in  which  he 
had  secreted  himself,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  me. 
He  was  amply  provided  with  a  cowskin  and  a  rope  ; 
and  he  evidently  intended  to  tie  tne  iip^  and  to  wreak 
his  vengeance  on  me  to  the  fullest  extent.  I.  should 
have  been  an  easy  prey,  had  he  succeeded  in  getting 
his  hands  upon  me,  for  I  had  taken  no  refreshment 
since  noon  on  Friday ;  and  this,  together  with  the 
pelting,  excitement,  and  the  loss  of  blood,  had  re- 
duced my  strength.  I,  however,  darted  back  into  the 
woods,  before  the  ferocious  hound  could  get  hold  of 
me,  and  buried  myself  in  a  thicket,  where  he  lost 
sight  of  me.  The  corn-field  afiorded  me  cover,  in  get- 
ting to  the  woods.  But  for  the  tall  corn.  Covey  would 
have  overtaken  me,  and  made  me  his  captive.  He 
seemed  very  much  chagrined  that  he  did  not  catch 
me,  and  gave  up  the  chase,  very  reluctantly ;  for  I 
could  see  his  angry  movements,  toward  the  house 
from  which  he  had  sallied,  on  his  foray. 

Well,  now  I  am  clear  of  Covey,  and  of  his  wrath- 
ful lash,  for  the  present.  I  am  in  the  wood,  buried  in 
its  somber  gloom,  and  hushed  in  its  solemn  silence  ; 
hid  from  all  human  eyes  ;  shut  in  with  nature  and  na- 
ture's God,  and  absent  from  all  human  contrivances. 
Here  was  a  good  place  to  pray  ;  to  pray  for  help  for 
deliverance — a  prayer  I  had  often  made  before.  But 
hov/  could  I  pray  ?  Covey  could  pray — Capt.  Auld 
could  pray — I  would  fain  pray  ;  but  doubts  (arising 


NIGHl    IN    THE   WOODS.  235 

partly  from  my  own  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace, 
and  partly  from  tlie  sham  religion  which  every- 
wdiere  prevailed,  cast  in  my  mind  a  doubt  upon  all 
religion,  and  led  me  to  the  conviction  that  prayers 
were  unavailing  and  delusive)  prevented  my  em- 
bracing the  opportunity,  as  a  religious  one.  Life,  in 
itself,  had  almost  become  burdensome  to  me.  All  my 
outYv^ard  relations  were  against  me  ;  I  must  stay  here 
and  starve,  (I  was  already  hungry,)  or  go  home  to 
Covey's,  and  have  my  flesh  torn  to  pieces,  and  my 
spirit  humbled  under  the  cruel  lash  of  Covey.  This 
was  the  painful  alternative  presented  to  me.  The  day 
was  long  and  irksome.  My  physical  condition  w^as 
deplorable.  I  was  weak,  from  the  toils  of  the  pre- 
vious day,  and  from  the  want  of  food  and  rest ;  and  had 
been  so  little  concerned  about  my  appearance,  that  I 
had  not  yet  washed  the  blood  from  my  garments.  I 
was  an  object  of  horror,  even  to  myself.  Life,  in 
Baltimore,  when  most  oppressive,  was  a  paradise  to 
this.  What  had  I  done,  what  had  my  parents  done, 
that  such  a  life  as  this  should  be  mine  ?  That  day,  in 
the  woods,  I  would  have  exchanged  my  manhood  for 
the  brutehood  of  an  ox. 

Kifrht  came.  I  was  still  in  the  woods,  unresolved 
what  to  do.  Hunger  had  not  yet  pinched  me  to  the 
point  of  going  home,  and  I  laid  myself  down  in  the 
leaves  to  rest ;  for  I  had  been  watching  for  hunters  all 
day,  but  not  being  molested  during  the  day,  I  ex- 
pected no  disturbance  during  the  niglit.  I  had  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  Covey  relied  upon  hunger  to 
drive  me  home  ;  and  in  this  I  was  quite  correct — the 


236  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

facts  showed  that  he  had  made  uo  effort  to  catch  me, 
since  morning. 

Daring  the  night,  I  heard  the  step  of  a  man  in  the 
woods.  He  was  coming  toward  the  place  where  I 
lay.  A  person  lying  still  has  the  advantage  over  one 
walking  in  the  Avoods,  in  the  day  time,  and  this  ad- 
vantage is  much  greater  at  night.  I  was  not  able  to 
engage  in  a  physical  struggle,  and  I  had  recourse  to 
the  common  resort  of  the  weak.  I  hid  myself  in  the 
leaves  to  prevent  discovery.  But,  as  the  night  rambler 
in  the  woods  drew  nearer,  I  found  him  to  be  ^  friend^ 
not  an  enemy ;  it  was  a  slave  of  Mr.  William  Groomes, 
of  Easton,  a  kind  hearted  fellow,  named  "  Sandy." 
Sandy  lived  with  Mr.  Kemp  that  year,  about  four  miles 
from  St.  Michael's.  He,  like  myself,  had  been  hired 
out  by  the  year ;  but,  unlike  myself,  had  not  been 
hired  out  to  be  broken.  Sandy  was  the  husband  of 
a  free  woman,  who  lived  in  the  lower  part  of  "  Pot- 
^ie  Neck^''  and  he  was  now  on  his  way  through  the 
woods,  to  see  her,  and  to  spend  the  Sabbath  with  her. 

As  soon  as  I  had  ascertained  that  the  disturber  of 
my  solitude  was  not  an  enemy,  but  the  good-hearted 
Sandy — a  man  as  famous  among  the  slaves  of  the 
neighborhood  for  his  good  nature,  as  for  his  good 
sense — I  came  out  from  my  hiding  place,  and  made 
myself  known  to  him.  I  explained  the  circumstan- 
ces of  the  past  two  days,  which  had  driven  me  to  the 
woods,  and  he  deeply  compassionated  my  distress.  It 
was  a  bold  thing  for  him  to  shelter  me,  and  I  could 
not  ask  him  to  do  so  ;  for,  had  I  been  found  in  his  hut, 
he  would  have  suffered  the  penalty  of  thirty-nine 
lashes  on  his  bare  back,  if  not  something  worse.    But, 


THE  ASH  CAKE  SUPPEK.  237 

Sandy  was  too  generous  to  permit  tlie  fear  of  punisli- 
ment  to  prevent  his  relieving  a  brother  bondman  from 
hunger  and  exposure  ;  and,  therefore,  on  his  own  mo- 
tion, I  accompanied  him  to  his  home,  or  rather  to  the 
home  of  his  wife — for  the  house  and  lot  were  hers- 
His  wife  was  called  up — for  it  was  now  about  mid- 
night—  a  fire  was  made,  some  Indian  meal  was 
soon  mixed  with  salt  and  water,  and  an  ash  cake 
was  baked  in  a  hurry  to  relieve  my  hunger.  Sandy's 
wife  was  not  behind  him  in  kindness — both  seemed 
to  esteem  it  a  privilege  to  succor  me  ;  for,  although  I 
was  hated  by  Covey  and  by  my  master,  I  was  loved 
by  the  colored  people,  because  they  thought  I  was  ha- 
ted for  my  knowledge,  and  persecuted  because  I  was 
feared.  1  was  the  only  slave  now  in  that  region  who 
could  read  and  write.  There  had  been  one  other  man, 
belonging  to  Mr.  Hugh  Hamilton,  who  could  read, 
(his  name  was  "Jim,")  but  he,  poor  fellow,  had, 
shortly  after  my  coming  into  the  neighborhood,  been 
sold  off  to  the  far  south.  I  saw  Jim  ironed,  in  the 
cart,  to  be  carried  to  Easton  for  sale, — pinioned  like 
a  yearling  for  the  slaughter.  My  knowledge  was  now 
the  pride  of  my  brother  slaves  ;  and,  no  doubt,  Sandy 
felt  something  of  the  general  interest  in  me  on  that 
account.  The  supper  was  soon  ready,  and  though  Ij 
have  feasted  since,  with  honorables,  lord  mayors  and 
aldermen,  over  the  sea,  my  supper  on  ash  cake  and 
cold  water,  with  Sandy,  was  the  meal,  of  all  my  life, 
most  sweet  to  my  taste,  and  now  most  vivid  in  my 
memory. 

Supper  over,  Sandy  and  I  went  into  a  discussion  of 
what  was  ])0SBible  for  me,  under  the  perils  and  hard- 


238  LIFE  AS  A  SLATE. 

ships  whicli  now  oversliadowed  my  path.  The  ques- 
tion was,  must  I  go  back  to  Covey,  or  must  I  now  at- 
tempt to  run  away  ?  Upon  a  careful  survey,  the  latter 
was  found  to  be  impossible  ;  for  I  was  on  a  narrow 
neck  of  land,  every  avenue  from  which  would  bring 
me  in  sight  of  pursuers.  There  was  the  Chesapeake 
bay  to  the  right,  and  "  Pot-pie  "  river  to  the  left,  and 
St.  Michael's  and  its  neighborhood  occupying  the  only 
space  through  wliich  there  was  any  retreat. 

I  found  Sandy  an  old  adviser.  He  was  not  only  a 
religious  man,  but  he  professed  to  believe  in  a  sys- 
tem for  which  I  have  no  name.  He  was  a  genuine 
African,  and  had  inherited  some  of  the  so  called  ma- 
gical powers,  said  to  be  possessed  by  African  and 
eastern  nations.  He  told  me  that  he  could  help  me ; 
that,  in  those  very  woods,  there  was  an  herb,  which  in 
the  morning  might  be  found,  possessing  all  the  powers 
required  for  my  protection,  (I  put  his  thoughts  in  my 
own  language ;)  and  that,  if  I  would  take  his  advice, 
he  would  procure  me  the  root  of  the  herb  of  which 
he  spoke.  He  told  me  further,  that  if  I  would  take 
that  root  and  wear  it  on  my  right  side,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  Covey  to  strike  me  a  blow ;  that  with 
this  root  about  my  person,  no  white  man  could  whip 
me.  He  said  he  had  carried  it  for  years,  and  that  he 
had  fully  tested  its  virtues.  He  had  never  received 
a  blow  from  a  slaveholder  since  he  carried  it ;  and  he 
never  expected  to  receive  one,  for  he  always  meant  to 
carry  that  root  as  a  protection.  He  knew  Covey 
well,  for  Mrs.  Covey  was  the  daugliter  of  Mr.  Kemp  ; 
and  he  (Sandy)  had  heard  of  the  barbarous  treatment 


THE   MAGIC    EOOT.  239 

to  whicli  I  was  subjected,  and  lie  wanted  to  do  some- 
thins;  for  me. 

Now  all  this  talk  about  the  root,  was,  to  me,  very  ab- 
surd and  ridiculous,  if  not  positively  sinful.  I  at  first 
rejected  the  idea  that  the  simple  carrying  a  root  on 
my  right  side,  (a  root,  by  the  way,  over  which  I  walked 
every  time  I  went  into  the  woods,)  could  possess  any 
such  magic  power  as  he  ascribed  to  it,  and  I  was, 
therefore,  not  disposed  to  cumber  my  pocket  with  it. 
I  had  a  positive  aversion  to  all  pretenders  to  "  divi- 
nation.^' It  was  beneath  one  of  my  intelligence  to 
countenance  such  dealings  with  the  devil,  as  this 
power  implied.  But,  with  all  my  learning — it  was 
really  precious  little — Sandy  was  more  than  a  match 
for  me.  "  My  book  learning,"  he  said,  "  had  not  kept 
Covey  off  me,"  (a  powerful  argument  just  then,)  and 
he  entreated  me,  with  flashing  eyes,  to  try  this.  If  it 
did  me  no  good,  it  could  do  me  no  harm,  and  it  would 
cost  me  nothing,  any  way.  Sandy  was  so  earnest, 
and  so  confident  of  the  good  qualities  of  this  weed, 
that,  to  please  him,  rather  than  from  any  conviction 
of  its  excellence,  I  was  induced  to  take  it.  He  had 
been  to  me  the  good  Samaritan,  and  had,  almost  prov- 
identially, found  me,  and  helped  me  when  I  could  not 
help  myself ;  how  did  I  know  but  that  the  hand  of 
the  Lord  was  in  it  ?  With  thoughts  of  this  sort,  I 
took  the  roots  from  Sandy,  and  put  them  in  my  right 
hand  pocket. 

This  was,  of  course,  Siwiday  morning.  Sandy  now 
urged  me  to  go  home,  with  all  speed,  and  to  walk  up 
bravely  to  the  house,  as  though  nothing  had  hap- 
pened.    I  saw  in  Sandy  too  deep  an  insight  into  hu- 


24:0  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

man  nature,  with  all  his  superstition,  not  to  have  some 
respect  for  his  advice  ;  and  perhaps,  too,  a  slight 
gleam  or  shadow  of  his  superstition  had  fallen  upon 
me.  At  any  rate,  I  started  off  toward  Covey's,  as  di- 
rected by  Sandy.  Having,  the  previous  night,  poured 
my  griefs  into  Sandy's  ears,  and  got  him  enlisted  in  my 
,  behalf,  having  made  his  wife  a  sharer  in  my  sorrows, 
and  having,  also,  become  well  refreshed  by  sleep  and 
food,  I  moved  off,  quite  courageously,  toward  the  much 
dreaded  Covey's.  Singularly  enough,  just  as  I  en- 
tered his  yard  gate,  I  met  him  and  his  wife,  dressed 
in  their  Sunday  best — looking  as  smiling  as  angels — on 
their  way  to  church.  The  manner  of  Covey  aston- 
ished me.  There  was  something  really  benignant  in 
his  countenance.  He  spoke  to  me  as  never  before ; 
told  me  that  the  pigs  had  got  into  the  lot,  and  he 
wished  me  to  drive  them  out ;  inquired  how  I  was, 
and  seemed  an  altered  man.  This  extraordinary  con- 
duct of  Covey,  really  made  me  begin  to  think  that 
Sandy's  herb  had  more  virtue  in  it  than  I,  in  my 
pride,  had  been  willing  to  allow  ;  and,  had  the  day 
been  other  than  Sunday,  I  should  have  attributed 
Covey's  altered  manner  solely  to  the  magic  power  of 
the  root.  I  suspected,  however,  that  the  Sabbath, 
and  not  the  root^  was  the  real  explanation  of  Covey's 
manner.  His  religion  hindered  him  from  breaking 
the  Sabbath,  but  not  from  breaking  my  skin.  He 
had  more  respect  for  the  day  than  for  tlie  man^  for 
whom  the  day  was  mercifully  given  ;  for  while  he 
would  cut  and  slasli  my  body  during  the  week,  he 
Would  not  hesitate,  on  Sunday,  to  teach  me  the  value 


00 VET  8    SUNDAY  FACE.  241 

of  my  soul,  or  the  way  of  life  and  salvation  by  Jesus 
Christ. 

All  went  well  with  me  till  Monday  morning ;  and 
then,  whether  the  root  had  lost  its  virtue,  or  whether 
my  tormentor  had  gone  deeper  into  the  black  art  than 
myself,  (as  was  sometimes  said  of  him,)  or  whether 
he  had  obtained  a  special  indulgence,  for  his  faithful 
Sabbath  day's  worship,  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 
know,  or  to  inform  the  reader ;  but,  this  much  I  may 
say, — -the  pious  and  benignant  smile  which  graced 
Covey's  face  on  Simclay^  wholly  disappeared  on  Ifon- 
day.  Long  before  daylight,  I  was  called  up  to  go 
and  feed,  rub,  and  curry  the  horses.  I  obeyed  the 
call,  and  I  would  have  so  obeyed  it,  had  it  been  made 
at  an  earlier  hour,  for  I  had  brought  my  mind  to  a 
firm  resolve,  during  that  Sunday's  reflection,  viz :  to 
obey  every  order,  however  unreasonable,  if  it  were  pos- 
sible, and,  if  Mr.  Covey  should  then  undertake  to  beat 
me,  to  defend  and  protect  myself  to  the  best  of  my  abil- 
ity. My  religious  views  on  the  subject  of  resisting 
my  master,  had  suffered  a  serious  shock,  by  the  sav- 
age persecution  to  which  I  had  been  subjected,  and 
my  hands  were  no  longer  tied  by  my  religion.  Mas- 
ter Thomas's  indifference  had  severed  the  last  link. 
I  had  now  to  this  extent  "  backslidden  "  from  this 
point  in  the  slave's  religious  creed  ;  and  I  soon  had 
occasion  to  make  my  fallen  state  known  to  my  Sun- 
day-pious brother.  Covey. 

Whilst  I  was  obeying  his  order  to  feed  and  get  the 
horses  ready  for  the  field,  and  when  in  the  act  of  go- 
ing up  the  stable  loft  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  down 
some   blades.  Covey  sneaked  into   the  stable,  in  his 
K  16 


242  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

peculiar  snake-like  way,  and  seizing  me  suddenly  by 
the  leg,  he  brouglit  me  to  the  stable  floor,  giving  my 
newly  mended  body  a  fearful  jar.  I  now  forgot  my 
rootSj  and  remembered  my  pledge  to  stand  uj)  in  my 
own  defense.  The  brute  was  endeavoring  skillfully 
to  get  a  slip-knot  on  my  legs,  before  I  could  draw  up 
my  feet.  As  soon  as  I  found  what  he  v\^as  up  to,  I 
gave  a  sudden  spring,  (my  two  day's  rest  had  been  of 
much  service  to  me,)  and  by  that  means,  no  doubt, 
he  was  able  to  bring  me  to  the  floor  so  heavily.  He 
was  defeated  in  his  plan  of  tying  me.  While  down, 
he  seemed  to  think  he  had  me  very  securely  in  his 
power.  He  little  tliought  he  was — as  the  rowdies 
say — "  in"  for  a  "  rough  and  tumble"  fight ;  but  such 
was  the  fact.  Whence  came  the  daring  spirit  neces- 
sary to  grap]3le  with  a  man  who,  eight-and-forty  hours 
before,  could,  with  his  slightest  word  have  made  me 
tremble  like  a  leaf  in  a  storm,  I  do  not  know  ;  at  any 
rate,  I  was  resolved  to  fight,  and,  what  was  better  still, 
I  was  actually  hard  at  it.  The  fighting  madness  had 
come  upon  me,  and  I  found  my  strong  fingers  firmly 
attached  to  the  throat  of  my  cowardly  tormentor ;  as 
heedless  of  consequences,  at  the  moment,  as  though 
we  stood  as  equals  before  the  law.  The  very  color  of 
the  man  was  forgotten.  I  felt  as  supple  as  a  cat,  and 
was  ready  for  the  snakish  creature  at  every  turn. 
Every  blow  of  his  was  parried,  though  I  dealt  no 
blows  in  turn.  I  was  strictly  on  the  defensive^  pre- 
venting him  from  injuring  me,  rather  than  trying  t;.> 
hijure  him.  I  flung  him  on  the  ground  several  times, 
when  he  meant  to  have  hurled  me  there.     I  held  him 


THE  FIGHT.  243 

80  firmly  by  the  throat,  that  his  blood  followed  my 
nails.     He  held  me,  and  I  held  him. 

All  was  fair,  thus  far,  and  the  contest  was  about 
equal.  My  resistance  was  entirely  unexpected,  and 
Covey  was  taken  all  aback  by  it,  for  he  trembled  in 
every  limb.  "  Are  you  going  to  resist ,  you  scoundrel  ? " 
said  he.  To  which,  I  returned  a  polite  '^ yes  sir,' 
steadily  gazing  my  interrogator  in  the  eye,  to  meet  the 
first  approach  or  dawning  of  the  blow,  which  I  expect- 
ed my  answer  would  call  forth.  But,  the  conflict  did 
not  long  remain  thus  equal.  Covey  soon  cried  out 
lustily  for  help  ;  not  that  I  was  obtaining  any  marked 
advantage  over  him,  or  was  injuring  him,  but  because 
he  was  gaining  none  over  me,  and  was  not  able,  single 
handed,  to  conquer  me.  He  called  for  his  cousin 
Hughes,  to  come  to  his  assistance,  and  now  the  scene 
was  changed.  I  was  compelled  to  give  blows,  as  well 
as  to  parry  them ;  and,  since  I  was,  in  any  case,  to 
suffer  for  resistance,  I  felt  (as  the  musty  proverb 
goes)  that.  "  I  might  as  well  be  hanged  for  an  old 
sheep  as  a  lamb."  I  was  still  defensive  toward  Co- 
vey, but  aggressive  toward  Hughes ;  and,  at  the  first 
approach  of  the  latter,  I  dealt  a  blow,  in  my  despera- 
tion, which  fairly  sickened  my  youthful  assailant.  He 
went  ofi",  bending  over  with  pain,  and  manifesting  no 
disposition  to  come  within  my  reach  again.  The  poor 
fellow  was  in  the  act  of  trying  to  catch  and  tie  my 
right  hand,  and  while  flattering  himself  with  success, 
I  gave  him  the  kick  which  sent  him  staggering  away 
in  pain,  at  the  same  time  that  I  held  Covey  with  a 
firm  hand. 

Taken  completely  by  surprise.  Covey  seemed   to 


244  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

have  lost  his  usual  strength  and  coolness.  He  was 
frightened,  and  stood  puffing  and  blowing,  seemingly- 
unable  to  command  words  or  blows.  When  he  saw 
that  poor  Hughes  was  standing  half  bent  with  pain — 
his  courage  quite  gone — the  cowardly  tyrant  asked 
if  I  "  meant  to  persist  in  my  resistance."  I  told  him 
"  I  did  tnean  to  resist^  come  what  might  f  that  I  had 
been  by  him  treated  like  a  Ijrute^  during  the  last  six 
months  ;  and  that  I  should  stand  it  no  longer.  With 
that,  he  gave  me  a  shake,  and  attempted  to  drag  me 
toward  a  stick  of  wood,  that  was  lying  just  outside 
the  stable  door.  He  meant  to  knock  me  down  with 
it ;  but,  just  as  he  leaned  over  to  get  the  stick,  I  seized 
him  with  both  hands  by  the  collar,  and,  with  a  vigor- 
ous and  sudden  snatch,  I  brought  my  assailant  harm- 
lessly, his  full  length,  on  the  not  over  clean  ground — ■ 
for  we  were  now  in  the  cow  yard.  He  had  selected 
the  place  for  the  fight,  and  it  was  but  right  that  he 
should  have  all  the  advantages  of  his  own  selection. 
By  this  time,  Bill,  the  hired  man,  came  home.  He 
had  been  to  Mr.  Hemsley's,  to  spend  the  Sunday  with 
his  nominal  wife,  and  was  coming  home  on  Monday 
morning,  to  go  to  work.  Covey  and  I  had  been 
skirmishing  from  before  daybreak,  till  now,  that  the 
sun  was  almost  shooting  his  beams  over  the  eastern 
woods,  and  we  were  still  at  it.  I  could  not  see  where 
the  matter  was  to  terminate.  He  evidently  was  afraid 
to  let  me  go,  lest  I  should  again  make  off  to  the  woods  ; 
otherwise,  he  would  probably  have  obtained  arms  from 
the  house,  to  frighten  me.  Holding  me.  Covey  called 
upon  Bill  for  assistance.  The  scene  here,  had  some- 
thing  comic  about  it.     "  Bill,"  wlio  knew  precisely 


BILL   REFUSES  TO  ASSIST  COVEY.  245 

what  Covey  wished  him  to  do,  affected  ignorance,  and 
pretended  he  did  not  know  what  to  do.  "What  shall 
I  do,  Mr.  Covey,"  said  Bill.  "  Take  hold  of  him— 
take  hold  of  him  !  "  said  Covey.  With  a  toss  of  his 
head,  peculiar  to  Bill,  he  said,  "  indeed,  Mr.  Covey, 
I  want  to  go  to  work."  "  This  is  yom*  work,"  said 
Covey  ;  "  take  hold  of  him."  Bill  replied,  with  spirit, 
"  My  master  hired  me  here,  to  work,  and  not  to  help 
you  whip  Frederick."  It  was  now  my  turn  to  speak. 
"  Bill,"  said  I,  "  don't  put  your  hands  on  me."  To 
which  he  replied,  "My  God!  Frederick, I  aint goin' 
to  tech  ye,"  and  Bill  walked  off,  leaving  Covey  and 
myself  to  settle  our  matters  as  best  we  might. 

But,  my  present  advantage  was  threatened  when  I 
saw  Caroline  (the  slave-woman  of  Covey)  coming  to 
the  cow  yard  to  milk,  for  she  was  a  powerful  woman, 
and  could  have  mastered  me  very  easily,  exhausted 
as  I  now  was.  As  soon  as  she  came  into  the  yard. 
Covey  attempted  to  rally  her  to  his  aid.  Strangely — 
and,  I  may  add,  fortunately — Caroline  was  in  no  hu- 
mor to  take  a  hand  in  any  such  sport.  We  were  all 
in  open  rebellion,  that  morning.  Caroline  answered 
the  command  of  her  master  to  "  take  hold  of  me,"  pre- 
cisely as  Bill  had  answered,  but  in  her^  it  v/as  at 
greater  peril  so  to  answer ;  she  was  the  slave  of  Co- 
vey, and  he  could  do  what  he  pleased  with  her.  It 
was  not  so  with  Bill,  and  Bill  knew  it.  Samuel  Harris, 
to  whom  Bill  belonged,  did  not  allow  his  slaves  to  be 
beaten,  unless  they  were  guilty  of  some  crime  which 
the  law  would  punish.  But,  poor  Caroline,  like  my- 
self, was  at  the  mercy  of  the  merciless  Covey ;  nor 


246  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

did  slie  escape  the  dire  effects  of  her  refusal.     He 
gave  her  several  sharp  blows. 

Covey  at  length  (two  hours  had  elapsed)  gave  up 
the  contest.  Lettmg  me  go,  he  said, — puffing  and 
blowing  at  a  great  rate — "  now,  you  scoundrel,  go  to 
your  w^ork ;  I  would  not  have  whijDped  you  half  so 
much  as  I  have  had  you  not  resisted."  The  fact  was, 
Tie  had  not  ichij^jMcl  me  at  all.  He  had  not,  in  all  the^ 
scuffle,  drawn  a  single  drop  of  blood  from  me.  I  had' 
drawn  blood  from  him ;  and,  even  without  this  satis- 
faction, I  should  have  been  victorious,  because  my 
aim  had  not  been  to  injure  him,  but  to  prevent  his 
injuring  me. 

During  the  whole  six  months  that  I- lived  with  Co- 
vey, after  this  transaction,  he  never  laid  on  me  the" 
weight  of  his  finger  in  anger.  He  would,  occasionally, 
say  he  did  not  want  to  have  to  get  hold  of  me  again — 
a  declaration  which  I  had  no  difficulty  in  believing ; 
and  I  had  a  secret  feeling,  which  aiiswered,  "  you 
need  not  wish  to  get  hold  of  me  again,  for  you  will 
be  likely  to  come  off  worse  in  a  second  fight  than  you 
did  in  the  first." 

^  "Well,  my  dear  reader,  this  battle  with  Mr.  Covey, 
— undignified  as  it  was,  and  as  I  fear  my  narration  of 
it  is — was  the  turning  point  in  my  "  life  as  a  sUfceP 
It  rekindled  in  my  breast  the  smouldering  embers  of 
liberty  ;  it  brought  up  my  Baltimore  dreams,  and  re- 
vived a  sense  of  my  own  manhood.  I  was  a  changed 
being  after  that  fight.  I  was  nothing  before  ;  I  was 
A  man  now.  It  recalled  to  life  my  crushed  self-respect 
and   my  self-confidence,  and  inspired  me  with  a  re- 

^uewed  determination  to  be  a  freeman.     A  man,  wath- 


\ 


RESULTS  OF  THE  VICTORY.  247 

out  force,  is  without  the  essential  dignity  of  hiimanitv. 
Human  nature  is  so  constituted,  that  it  cannot  honor  a 
helpless  man,  although  it  can  pity  him  ;  and  even 
this  it  cannot  do  long,  if  the  signs  of  power  do  not 
arise. 

He  only  can  understand  the  eitect  of  this  combat 
on  my  spirit,  who  has  himself  incurred  something, 
hazarded  something,  in  repelling  the  unjust  and  cruel 
aggressions  of  a  tyrant.  Covey  was  a  tyrant,  and  a 
cowardly  one,  withal.  After  resisting  him,  I  felt  as 
I  had  never  felt  before.  It  was  a  resurrection  from 
the  dark  and  pestiferous  tomb  of  slavery,  to  the  heav- 
en of  comparative  freedom.  I  was  no  longer  a  ser- 
vile coward,  trembling  under  the  frown  of  a  brother 
worm  of  the  dust,  but,  my  long- cowed  spirit  was 
roused  to  an  attitude  of  manly  independence.  I  had  \ 
reached  the  point,  at  which  I  was  not  afraid  to  dieJ 
This  spirit  made  me  a  freeman  in  faet^  while  I  re- 
mained a  slave  in  form.  When  a  slave  cannot  be 
flogged  he  is  more  than  half  free.  He  has  a  domain 
as  broad  as  his  own  manly  heart  to  defend,  and  he  is 
really  "  a  power  on  earth.''''  While  slavos  prefer  their, 
lives,  with  flogging,  to  instant  death,  they  will  always 
find  christians  enough,  like  unto  Covey,  to  accommo- 
date that  preference.  From  this  timo,  until  that  of 
my  escape  from  slavery,  I  was  never  fairly  whipped. 
Several  attempts  were  made  to  whip  me,  but  they 
were  always  unsuccessful.  Bruises  I  did  get,  as  I 
shall  hereafter  inform  the  reader  ;  but  the  case  I  have 
been  describing,  was  the  end  of  the  brutification  to 
which  slavery  had  subjected  me.  j 

The  reader  will  be  glad  to  know  why,  after  I  had 


248  LITE  AS   A  SLAVE. 

SO  grievously  offended  Mr.  Covey,  he  did  not  have 
me  taken  in  hand  by  the  authorities ;  indeed,  why  the 
law  of  Maryland,  which  assigns  hanging  to  the  slave 
who  resists  his  master,  was  not  put  in  force  against 
me  ;  at  any  rate,  why  I  was  not  taken  up,  as  is  usual 
in  such  cases,  and  publicly  w^hipped,  for  an  example 
to  other  slaves,  and  as  a  means  of  deterring  me  from 
committing  the  same  offense  again.  I  confess,  that 
the  easy  manner  in  which  I  got  off,  was,  for  a  long 
time,  a  surprise  to  me,  and  I  cannot,  even  now,  fully 
explain  the  cause. 

The  only  explanation  I  can  venture  to  suggest,  is 
the  fact,  that  Covey  w^as,  probably,  ashamed  to  have 
it  known  and  confessed  that  he  had  been  mastered  by 
a  boy  of  sixteen.  Mr.  Covey  enjoyed  the  unbounded 
and  very  valuable  reputation,  of  being  a  first  rate 
overseer  and  negro  hreaker.  By  means  of  this  repu- 
tation, he  was  able  to  procure  his  hands  for  very  tri- 
fling compensation,  and  with  very  great  ease.  His 
interest  and  his  pride  mutually  suggested  the  wisdom 
of  passing  the  matter  by,  in  silence.  The  story  that 
he  had  undertaken  to  whip  a  lad,  and  had  been  resist- 
ed, was,  of  itself,  sufficient  to  damage  him ;  for  his 
bearing  should,  in  the  estimation  of  slaveholders,  be 
of  that  imperial  order  that  should  make  such  an  oc- 
currence impossible.  I  judge  from  these  circumstan- 
ces, that  Covey  deemed  it  best  to  give  me  the  go-by. 
It  is,  perhaps,  not  altogether  creditable  to  my  natural 
temper,  that,  after  this  conflict  with  Mr.  Covey,  I  did, 
at  times,  purposely  aim  to  provoke  him  to  an  attack, 
by  refusing  to  keep  with  the  other  hands  in  the  field, 


RESULTS  OF  THE  V'ICTOEY.  249 

but  I  could  never  bully  him  to  another  battle.  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  do  him  serious  damage,  if  he 
ever  again  attempted  to  lay  violent  hands  on  me. 

"  Hereditary  bondmen,  know  ye  not 
Who  would  be  free,  themselves  must  strite  the  blow  ?" 


CIIAPTEE   XVllL 

NEW  RELATIONS  AND   DUTIES. 

CHANGE    OF     MASTERS BENEFITS    DERIVED    BY    THE   CHANGE FAME  OF  THE 

FIGHT    WITH    COVEY RECKLESS    UNCONCERN AUTHOr's    ABHORRENCE  OF 

SLAVERY ABILITY  TO  READ  A  CAUSE  OF  PREJUDICE THE  HOLIDAYS HOW 

SPENT SHARP     HIT     AT    SLAVERY EFFECTS    OF    HOLIDAYS A  DEVICE   OF 

SLAVERY DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  COVEY  AND  FREELAND AN  IRRELIGIOUS 

MASTER  PREFERRED  TO  A  RELIGIOUS  ONE CATALOGUE  OF  FLOGGABLE  OF- 
FENSES  HARD  LIFE  AT  C^VEY's  USEFUL  TO  THE  AUTHOR IMPROVED  CON- 
DITION   NOT    FOLLOWED  BY  CONTENTMENT CONGENIAL   SOCIETY  AT  FREE- 

LAND's author's  SABBATH    SCHOOL  INSTITUTED — SECRECY  NECESSARY 

AFFECTIONATE  RELATIONS  OF  TUTOR  AND  PUPILS CONFIDENCE  AND  FRIEND- 
SHIP AMONG  SLAVES THE  AUTHOR  DECLINES  PUBLISHING  PARTICULARS  OF 

CONVERSATIONS  "WITH  HIS  FRIENDS SLAVERY  THE  INVITER  OF  VEN- 
GEANCE. 

My  term  of  actual  service  to  Mr.  Edward  Covey 
ended  on  Cbristmas  day,  1834  I  gladly  left  tho 
snaldsli  Covey,  altlioiigh  lie  was  now  as  gentle  as  a 
iamb.  My  home  for  the  year  1835  was  already  se- 
cured— my  next  master  was  already  selected.  There  is 
alwa3^s  more  or  less  excitement  about  the  matter  of 
chansina:  hands,  but  I  had  become  somewhat  reckless. 
I  cared  very  little  into  whose  hands  I  fell — 1  meant 
to  fight  my  way.  Despite  of  Covey,  too,  the  report 
got  abroad,  that  I  was  hard  to  whip  ;  that  I  was  guilty 
of  kicking  back ;  that  tliough  generally  a  good  tem- 
pered negro,  I  sometimes  "  got  the  devil  in  me."  These 
sayings  were  rife  in  Talbot  county,  and  they  distin- 
guished me  among  my  servile  brethren.     Slaves,  gen- 


THE  HOLIDAYS.  251 

erally,  will  figlit  each  other,  and  die  at  eacTi  other's 
hands  ;  but  there   are  few  who  are  not  held  in  awe 
by  a  white  man.     Trained  from  the  cradle  up,  to  think   \ 
and  feel  that  their  masters  are  superior,  and  invested^ 
with  a  sort  of  sacredness,  there  are  few  who  can  out-\ 
grow  or  rise  above  the  control  which  that  sentiment/ 
exercises.     I  had  now  got  free  from  it,  and  the  thing' 
was  known.     One  bad  sheep  will  spoil  a  whole  Hock. 
Among  the  slaves,  I  was  a  bad  sheep.     I  hated  slave- 
ry, slaveholders,  and  all  pertaining  to  them  ;  and  I 
did  not  fail  to  inspire  others  with  the  same  feeling, 
wherever  and  whenever  opportunity  was  presented. 
This  made  me  a  marked  lad  among  the  slaves,  and  a 
suspected  one  among  the  slaveholders.     A  knowledge 
of  my  ability  to  read  and  write,  got  pretty  widely 
spread,  which  was  very  much  against  me. 

The  days  between  Christmas  day  and  l^ew  Years, 
are  allowed  the  slaves  as  holidays.  During  these 
days,  all  regular  work  was  suspended,  and  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  keep  fires,  and  look  after  the 
stock.  This  time  we  regarded  as  our  own,  by  the 
grace  of  our  masters,  and  we,  therefore  used  it,  or 
abused  it,  as  we  pleased.  Those  who  had  families  at 
a  distance,  were  now  expected  to  visit  them,  and  to 
spend  with  them  the  entire  week.  The  younger 
slaves,  or  the  unmarried  ones,  were  expected  to  see  to 
the  cattle,  and  attend  to  incidental  duties  at  home. 
The  holidays  were  variously  spent.  The  sober,  think- 
ing and  industrious  ones  of  our  number,  would  employ 
themselves  in  manufacturing  corn  brooms,  mats,  horse 
collars  and  baskets,  and  some  of  these  were  very  well 
inade.     Another  class   spent  their  time  in  hunting 


252  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

opossums,  coons,  rabbits,  and  otber  game.  But  the 
majority  spent  the  holidays  in  sports,  ball  playing, 
wrestling,  boxing,  running  foot  races,  dancing,  and 
drinking  whisky ;  and  this  latter  mode  of  spending 
the  time  was  generally  most  agreeable  to  their  mas- 
ters. A  slave  who  would  work  during  the  holidays, 
was  thought,  by  his  master,  undeserving  of  holidays. 
Such  an  one  had  rejected  the  favor  of  his  master. 
There  was,  in  this  simple  act  of  continued  work,  an 
accusation  against  slaves  ;  and  a  slave  could  not  help 
thinking,  that  if  he  made  three  dollars  during  the 
holidays,  he  might  make  three  hundred  during  the 
year.  Not  to  be  drunk  during  the  holidays,  was  dis- 
graceful ;  and  he  was  esteemed  a  lazy  and  improvi- 
dent man,  who  could  not  afford  to  drink  whisky  du- 
rino*  Christmas. 

The  fiddling,  dancing  and  '^jubilee  heating^^  was 
going  on  in  all  directions.  This  latter  performance  is 
strickly  southern.  It  supplies  the  place  of  a  violin, 
or  of  other  musical  instruments,  and  is  played  so 
easily,  that  almost  every  farm  has  its  "  Juba"  beater. 
The  performer  improvises  as  he  beats,  and  sings  his 
merry  songs,  so  ordering  the  words  as  to  have  them 
fall  pat  with  the  movement  of  his  hands.  Among  a 
mass  of  nonsense  and  wild  frolic,  once  in  a  while  a 
sharp  hit  is  given  to  the  meanness  of  slaveholders. 
Take  the  following,  fur  an  example : 

"  We  raise  de  wheat,  ^ 

Dey  gib  us  de  corn; 
We  bake  de  bread, 
Dey  gib  us  de  cruss ; 
We  sif  de  meal, 
Dey  gib  us  de  huss ; 


EFFECTS   OF  HOLIDAYS.  253 

We  peal  de  meat, 

Dey  gib  us  de  skin, 

And  dat's  de  way 

Dey  takes  us  in. 

We  skim  de  pot, 

Dey  gib  us  the  liquor, 

And  say  dat's  good  enough  for  nigger. 

Walk  over  !  walk  over  I 

Tom  butter  and  de  fat ; 

Poor  nigger  you  can't  get  over  dat ;  ■ 

Walk  over !  " 

This  is  not  a  bad  summary  of  the  palpable  injustice 
and  fraud  of  slavery,  giving — as  it  does — to  the  lazy 
and  idle,  the  comforts  which  God  designed  should  be 
given  solely  to  the  honest  laborer.  But  to  the  holi- 
day's. 

Judging  from  my  own  observation  and  experience, 
I  believe  these  holidays  to  be  among  the  most  effect- 
ive means,  in  the  hands  of  slaveholders,  of  keeping 
down  the  spirit  of  insurrection  among  the  slaves. 

To  enslave  men,  successfully  and  safely,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  have  their  minds  occupied  with  thoughts  and 
aspirations  short  of  the  liberty  of  which  they  are  de- 
prived. A  certain  degree  of  attainable  good  must  be 
kept  before  them.  These  holidays  serve  the  purpose 
of  keeping  the  minds  of  the  slaves  occupied  with  pros- 
pective pleasure,  within  the  limits  of  slavery.  The 
young  man  can  go  wooing ;  the  married  man  can 
visit  his  wife ;  the  father  and  mother  can  see  their 
children  ;  the  industrious  and  money  loving  can  make 
a  few  dollars  ;  the  great  wrestler  can  win  laurels  ; ' 
the  young  people  can  meet,  and  enjoy  each  other's 
society  ;  the  drunken  man  can  get  plenty  of  whisky ; 


254  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

and  the  religious  man  can  hold  prayer  meetings, 
preach,  pray  and  exhort  during  the  holidays.  Before 
the  holidays,  these  are  pleasures  in  prospect ;  after 
the  holidays,  they  become  pleasures  of  memory,  and 
they  serve  to  keep  out  thoughts  and  wishes  of  a  more 
dangerous  character.  Were  slaveholders  at  once  to 
abandon  the  practice  of  allowing  their  slaves  these 
liberties,  periodically,  and  to  keep  them,  the  year 
round,  closely  confined  to  the  naiTow  circle  of  their 
homes,  I  doubt  not  that  the  south  would  blaze  with 
■'insurrections.  These  holidays  are  conductors  or  safety 
halves  to  carry  off  the  explosive  elements  inseparable 
from  the  human  mind,  when  reduced  to  the  condition 
of  slavery.  But  for  these,  the  rigors  of  bondage  would 
become  too  severe  for  endurance,  and  the  slave  would 
be  forced  up  to  dangerous  desperation.  Woe  to  the 
slaveholder  when  he  undertakes  to  hinder  or  to  pre-  ■ 
vent  the  operation  of  these  Metric  conductors.  A 
succession  of  earthquakes  would  be  less  destructive, 
than  the  insurrectionary  fires  which  v/ould  be  sure  to 
burst  forth  in  different  parts  of  the  south,  from  such 
interference. 

Thus,  the  holidays,  become  part  and  parcel  of  the 
gross  fraud,  wrongs  and  inhumanity  of  slavery.  Os- 
tensibly, they  are  institutions  of  benev-alence,  designed 
to  mitigate  the  rigors  of  slave  life,  but,  practically, 
they  are  a  fraud,  instituted  by  human  selfishness,  the 
better  to  secure  the  ends  of  injustice  and  oj^pression. 
The  slave's  happiness  is  not  the  end  sought,  but,  .rath- 
er, the  master's  safety.  It  is  not  from  a  generous  un-  \ 
concern  for  the  slave's  labor  that  this  cessation  from 
labor  is  allowed,  but  from  a  prudent  regard  to  the 


A   DEVICE  OF  SLAYERT.  255 

safety  of  the  slave  system.    I  am  strengthened  in  this 
opinion,  by  the   f^ict,  that  most  slaveholders  like  to 
have  their  slaves  spend  the  holidays  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  be  of  no  real  benefit  to  the  slaves.     It  is 
plain,  that  everything  like  rational  enjoyment  among 
the  slaves,  is  frowned  upon  ;  and  only  those  wild  and 
low  sports,  peculiar  to  semi-civilized  people,  are  en- 
couraged.    All   the  license  allowed,  appears  to  have 
no  other  object  than  to  disgust  the  slaves  with  their 
temporary  freedom,  and  to  make  them  as  glad  to  re- 
turn  to   their  work,  as   they  were  to  leave  it.     By 
plunging  them  into  exhausting  depths  of  drunkenness 
and  dissipation,  this  effect  is  almost  certain  to  follow. 
I  have  known  slaveholders  resort  to  cunning  tricks, 
with  a  view  of  getting  their  slaves  deplorably  drunk. 
A  usual  plan  is,  to  make  bets  on  a  slave,  that  he  can 
drink  more  whisky  than  any  other ;  and  so  to  induce  a 
rivalry  among  them,  for  the  mastery  in  this  degrada- 
tion.    The   scenes,  brought  about  in  this  way,  were 
often  scandalous  and  loathsome  in  the  extreme.  Whole 
multitudes   might   be  found  stretched  out  in  brutal 
drunkenness,  at  once  helpless  and  disgusting.     Thus, 
when  the  slave  asks  for  a  few  hours  of  virtuous  free- 
dom, his  cunning  master  takes  advantage  of  his  igno- 
rance, and  cheers  him  w^ith  a  dose  of  vicious  and  re- 
volting dissipation,  artfully  labeled  with  the  name  of 
Liberty.     We  were   induced  to   drink,  I  among  the 
rest,  and  when  the  holidays  were  over,  we  all  staggered 
up  from  our  filth  and  wallowing,  took  a  long  breath, 
and  went  away  to  our  various  fields  of  v>^ork  ;  feeling, 
upon  the  whole,  rather  glad  to  go  from  that  wiiich  our 
masters  artfully  deceived  us  into  the  belief  was  iix^a- 


256  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

dom,  back  again  to  the  arms  of  slavery.  It  was  not 
what  we  had  taken  it  to  be,  nor  what  it  might  have 
been,  had  it  not  been  abused  by  "us.  It  was  about  as 
well  to  be  a  slave  to  master^  as  to  be  a  slave  to  rum 
and  whisky. 

I  am  the  more  induced  to  take  this  view  of  the  holi- 
day system,  adopted  by  slaveholders,  from  what  I 
know  of  their  treatment  of  slaves,  in  regard  to  other 
things.  It  is  the  commonest  thing  for  them  to  try  to 
disgust  their  slaves  with  what  they  do  not  want  them 
to  have,  or  to  enjoy.  A  slave,  for  instance,  likes  mo- 
lasses ;  he  steals  some ;  to  cure  him  of  the  taste  for  it, 
his  master,  in  many  cases,  will  go  away  to  town,  and 
buy  a  large  quantity  of  the  poorest  quality,  and  set  it 
before  his  slave,  and,  with  whip  in  hand,  compel  him 
to  eat  it,  until  the  poor  fellow  is  made  to  sicken  at  the 
very  thought  of  molasses.  The  same  course  is  often 
adopted  to  cure  slaves  of  the  disagreeable  and  incon- 
venient practice  of  asking  for  more  food,  when  their 
allowance  has  failed  them.  The  same  disgusting  pro- 
cess works  well,  too,  in  other  things,  but  I  need  not 
cite  them.  When  a  slave  is  drunk,  the  slaveholder 
has  no  fear  that  he  will  plan  an  insurrection;  no  fear 
that  he  will  escape  to  the  north.  It  is  the  sober, 
thinking  slave  w^ho  is  dangerous,  and  needs  the  vigi- 
lance of  his  master,  to  keep  him  a  slave.  But,  to  pro- 
ceed w^ith  my  narrative. 

On  the  first  of  January,  1835,  I  proceeded  from  St. 
Michael's  to  Mr.  William  Freeland's,  my  new  home. 
Mr.  Freeland  lived  only  three  miles  from  St.  Michael's, 
on  an  old  worn  out  farm,  which  required  much  labor 


DIFFERENCE  BETWEEX  COVEY  AND  FEEELAND.       257 

to  restore  it  to  anything  like  a  self-supporting  estab- 
lishment. 

I  was  not  long  in  finding  Mr  Freeland  to  be  a  very 
difi'erent  man  from  Mr.  Covey.  Though  not  rich,  Mr. 
Freeland  was  what  may  be  called  a  well-bred  south- 
ern gentleman,  as  diiierent  from  Covey,  as  a  well- 
trained  and  hardened  negro  breaker  is  from  the  best 
specimen  of  the  first  families  of  the  south.  Though 
Freeland  was  a  slaveholder,  and  shared  many  of  the 
vices  of  his  class,  he  seemed  alive  to  the  sentiment  of 
honor.  He  had  some  sense  of  justice,  and  some  feel- 
ings of  humanity.  He  was  fretful,  impulsive  and 
]3assionate,  but  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say,  he 
was  free  from  the  mean  and  selfish  characteristics 
which  distinguished  the  creature  from  which  I  had 
now,  happily,  escaped.  He  was  open,  frank,  impera- 
tive, and  practiced  no  concealments,  disdaining  to 
play  the  spy.  In  all  this,  he  was  the  opposite  of  the 
crafty  Covey. 

Among  the  many  advantages  gained  in  my  change 
from  Covey's  to  Freeland's — startling  as  the  state- 
ment may  be — was  the  fact  that  the  latter  gentleman 
made  no  profession  of  religion.  I  assert  raost  unhesi- 
tatingly^ that  the  religion  of  the  south — as  I  have  ob- 
served it  and  proved  it — is  a  mere  covering  for  the 
most  horrid  crimes  ;  the  justifier  of  the  most  appalling 
barbarity ;  a  sanctiner  of  the  most  liateful  frauds ; 
and  a  secure  shelter,  under  which  the  darl^est,  foulest, 
grossest,  and  most  infernal  abomiuations  fester  and 
flourish.  Were  I  again  to  be  reduced  to  the  condition 
of  a  slave,  next  to  that  calamity,  I  should  regard  the 
fact  of  being  the  slave  of  a  religious  slaveholder,  tho 

17 


258  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

greatest  that  could  befall  me.  For  of  all  slaveholders 
with  whom  I  have  ever  met,  religious  slaveholders 
are  the  worst.  I  have  found  them,  almost  invariably, 
the  vilest,  meanest  and  basest  of  their  class.  Excep- 
tions there  may  be,  but  this  is  true  of  religious  slave- 
holders, as  a  class.  It  is  not  for  me  to  explain  the 
fact.  Others  may  do  that :  I  simply  state  it  as  a  fact, 
and  leave  the  theological,  and  psychological  inquiry, 
which  it  raises,  to  be  decided  by  others  more  compe- 
tent than  myself.  Religious  slaveholders,  like  reli- 
gious persecutors,  are  ever  extreme  in  their  malice 
and  violence.  Yery  near  my  new  home,  on  an  ad- 
joining farm,  there  lived  the  Kev.  Daniel  Weeden, 
who  was  both  pious  and  cruel  after  the  real  Covey 
pattern.  Mr.  Weeden  was  a  local  preacher  of  the 
Protestant  Methodist  persuasion,  and  a  most  zealous 
supporter  of  the  ordinances  of  religion,  generally. 
This  Weeden  owned  a  woman  called  "  Ceal,"  who 
was  a  standing  proof  of  his  mercilessness.  Poor  CeaFs 
back,  always  scantily  clothed,  was  kept  literally  raw, 
hj  the  lash  of  this  religious  man  and  gospel  minister. 
The  most  notoriously  wicked  man— so  called  in  dis- 
tinction from  church  members — could  hire  hands 
more  easily  than  tliis  brute.  When  sent  out  to  find 
a  home,  a  slave  would  never  enter  the  gates  of  the 
preacher  Weeden,  while  a  sinful  sinner  needed  a  hand. 
Behave  ill,  or  behave  well,  it  was  the  known  maxim 
of  Weeden,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  a  master  to  use  the 
lash.  If,  for  no  other  reason,  he  contended  that  this 
was  essential  to  remind  a  slave  of  his  condition,  and 
of  his  master's  authority.  The  good  slave  must  be 
"whipped,  to  be  1cej>t  good,  and  the  bad  slave  must  be 


THE   KEY.  RIGBY  HOPKINS.  259 

wliipped,  to  be  inade  good.  Such  was  Weeden's 
theory,  and  such  was  his  practice.  The  back  of  his 
slave-woman  will,  in  the  judgment,  be  the  swiftest 
witness  against  him. 

While  I  am  stating  particular  cases,  I  might  as  well 
immortalize  another  of  my  neighbors,  by  calling  him 
by  name,  and  putting  him  in  print.  He  did  not  think 
that  a  "  chiel"  was  near,  "  taking  notes,"  and  will, 
doubtless,  feel  quite  angry  at  having  his  character 
touched  off  in  the  ragged  style  of  a  slave's  pen.  I 
bes:  to  introduce  the  reader  to  Rev.  Rioby  Hopkins. 
Mr.  Hopkins  resides  between  Easton  and  St.  Michael's, 
in  Talbot  county,  Maryland.  The  severity  of  this 
man  made  him  a  perfect  terror  to  the  slaves  of  his 
neighborhood.  The  peculiar  feature  of  his  govern- 
ment, was,  his  system  of  whipping  slaves,  as  he  said, 
ill  advance  of  deserving  it.  He  always  managed  to 
have  one  or  two  slaves  to  whip  on  Monday  morning, 
so  as  to  start  his  hands  to  their  work,  under  the  inspi- 
ration of  a  new  assurance  on  Monday,  that  his  preach- 
ing about  kindness,  mercy,  brotherly  love,  and  the 
like,  on  Sunday,  did  not  interfere  with,  or  prevent 
him  from  establishing  his  authority,  by  the  cowskin. 
He  seemed  to  wish  to  assure  them,  that  his  tears  over 
poor,  lost  and  ruined  sinners,  and  his  pity  for  them, 
did  not  reach  to  the  blacks  who  tilled  his  fields.  This 
saintly  Hopkins  used  to  boast,  that  he  was  the  best 
hand  to  manage  a  negro  in  the  county.  He  whipped 
for  the  smallest  ofienses,  by  way  of  preventing  the 
commission  of  large  ones. 

The  reader  might  imagine  a  difficulty  in  finding 
faults  enough  for  such  frequent  whipping.     Bi^S  this 


260  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

is  because  jon  have  no  idea  how  easy  a  matter  it  is 
to  oftend  a  man  v^ho  is  on  the  look-out  for  offenses. 
The  man,  unaccustomed  to  slaveholding,  would  be  as- 
tonished to  observe  how  mnn j  Jloggahle  of^ensQS  there 
are  in  the  slaveholder's  catalogue  of  crimes  ;  and  how 
easy  it  is  to  commit  any  one  of  them,  even  when  the 
slave  least  intends  it.  A  slaveholder,  bent  on  finding 
fault,  will  hatch  up  a  dozen  a  day,  if  he  chooses  to  do 
so,  and  each  one  of  these  shall  be  of  a  punishable  de- 
scription. A  mere  look,  word,  or  motion,  a  mistake, 
accident,  or  want  of  power,  are  all  matters  for  which 
a  slave  may  be  whipped  at  any  time.  Does  a  slave 
look  dissatisfied  Avitli  his  condition?  It  is  said,  that 
]ie  has  the  devil  in  him,  and  it  must  be  whipped  out. 
Does  he  answer  loudly,  when  spoken  to  b}^  his  mas- 
ter, with  an  air  of  self-consciousness?  Then,  must  he 
be  taken  down  a  button-hole  lower,  by  the  lash,  well 
laid  on.  Does  he  forget,  and  omit  to  pull  ofl:*  his  hat, 
when  approaching  a  white  person  ?  Then,  he  must, 
or  may  be,  w^hipped  for  his  bad  manners.  Does  he 
ever  venture  to  vindicate  his  conduct,  v»'hen  harshly 
and  unjustly  accused?  Then,  he  is  guilty  of  impu- 
dence, one  of  the  greatest  crimes  in  'the  social  cata- 
logue of  southern  society.  To  allow  a  slave  to  escape 
punishment,  who  has  impudently  attempted  to  excul- 
pate himself  from  unjust  charges,  preferred  against 
him  by  some  white  person,  is  to  be  guilty  of  great 
dereliction  of  duty.  Does  a  slave  ever  venture  to  sug- 
gest a  better  way  of  doing  a  thing,  no  matter  what? 
he  is,  altogetlier,  too  ofiicious — wise  above  what  is 
written — and  he  deserves,  even  if  he  does  not  get,  a 
flogging  for  his  presumption.     Does  he,  while  plow- 


mVALRY  AMONG  SLAVES  ENCOURAGED.  261 

ing,  break  a  plow,  or  while  lioeing,  break  a  lioe,  or 
wbile  cliopping,  break  an  ax  ?  no  matter  what  ^vere 
the  imperfections  of  the  implement  broken,  or  the  nat- 
ural liabilities  fojrJ)reaking,  the  slave  can  be  w^hipped 
for  carelessness.  /  The  reverend  slaveholder  could 
always  find  something  of  this  sort,  to  justify  him  in 
using  the  lash  several  times  during  the  week.  Hop- 
kins— like  Covey  and  Weeden — were  shunned  by 
slaves  who  had  the  privilege  (as  many  had)  of  finding 
their  own  masters  at  the  end  of  each  year ;  and  yet, 
there  was  not  a  man  in  all  that  section  of  country, 
who  made  a  louder  profession  of  religion,  than  did 
Mr.  RiGBY  Hopkins. 

But,  to  continue  the  thread  of  my  story,  through  my 
experience  when  at  Mr.  William  Freeland's. 

My  poor,  weather-beaten  bark  now  reached  smootli- 
er  water,  and  gentler  breezes.  My  stormy  life  at  Co- 
vey's had  been  of  service  to  me.  The  things  that 
would  have  seemed  very  hard,  had  I  gone  direct  to 
Mr.  Freeland's,  from  the  home  of  Master  Thomas, 
w^ere  now  (after  the  hardships  at  Covey's)  "trifles 
lio'ht  as  air."  I  was  still  a  field  hand,  and  had  come 
to  prefer  the  severe  labor  of  the  field,  to  the  enerva- 
ting- duties  of  a  house  servant.  I  had  become  laro;e 
and  strong ;  and  had  begun  to  take  pride  in  the  fact, 
that  I  could  do  as  much  hard  work  as  some  of  the 
older  men.  There  is  much  rivalry  among  slaves,  at 
times,  as  to  which  can  do  the  most  work,  and  masters 
generally  seek  to  promote  such  rivalry.  But  some 
of  us  were  too  wise  to  race  with  each  other  very 
long.  Such  racing,  we  had  the  sagacity  to  see,  was 
not  likely  to  pay.     We  had  our  times  for  measuring 


262  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

each  otlier's  streiigtli,  but  we  knew  too  much  to  keep 
up  the  competition  so  long  as  to  produce  an  extraor- 
dinary day's  work.  We  knew  that  if,  by  extraordina- 
ry exertion,  a  large  quantity  of  work  was  done  in  one 
day,  the  fact,  becoming  known  to  the  master,  might 
lead  him  to  require  the  same  amount  everyday.  This 
thought  was  enough  to  bring  us  to  a  dead  halt  when 
ever  so  much  excited  for  the  race. 

At  Mr.  Freeland's,  my  condition  was  every  way  im- 
proved. I  was  no  longer  the  poor  scape-goat  that  I 
was  when  at  Covey's,  where  every  wrong  thing  done 
was  saddled  u]3on  me,  and  where  other  slaves  were 
whipped  over  my  shoulders.  Mr.  Freeland  was  too  j ust 
a  man  thus  to  impose  upon  me,  or  upon  any  one  else. 

It  is  quite  usual  to  make  one  slave  the  object  of  es- 
pecial abuse,  and  to  beat  him  often,  with  a  view  to  its 
effect  upon  others,  rather  than  with  any  expectation 
that  the  slave  whipped  will  be  improved  by  it,  but 
the  man  with  whom  I  now  was,  could  descend  to  no 
such  meanness  and  wickedness.  Every  man  here  was 
held  individually  responsible  for  his  own  conduct. 

Tliis  was  a  vast  improvement  on  the  rule  at  Covey's. 
There,  I  was  the  general  pack  horse.  Bill  Smith  was 
protected,  by  a  positive  prohibition  made  by  his  rich 
master,  and  the  command  of  the  rich  slaveholder  is 
LAW  to  the  poor  one  ;  Hughes  was  favored,  because  of 
his  relationship  to  Covey;  and  the  hands  hired  tem- 
porarily, escaped  flogging,  except  as  they  got  it  over 
my  poor  shoulders.  Of  course,  this  comparison  refers 
to  the  time  when  Covey  could  whip  me. 

Mr.  Freeland,  like  Mr.  Covey,  gave  his  hands 
enough  to  eat,  but,  unlike  Mr.  Covey,  he  gave  them 


NOT  YET   CONTENTED.  263 

time  to  take  their  meals ;  he  worked  tis  hard  durino^ 
the  day,  but  gave  us  the  night  for  rest — another  ad- 
vantage to  be  set  to  the  credit  of  the  sinner,  as 
ag-ainst  that  of  the  saint.  We  were  seldom  in  the  field 
after  dark  in  the  evening,  or  before  sunrise  in  the 
morning.  Our  implements  of  husbandry  were  of  the 
most  improved  pattern,  and  much  superior  to  those 
used  at  Covey's. 

E^otwithstanding  the  improved  condition  which  was 
now  mine,  and  the  many  advantages  I  had  gained  by 
my  new  home,  and  my  new  master,  I  was  still  rest- 
less and  discontented.  I  was  about  as  hard  to  please 
by  a  master,  as  a  master  is  by  a  slave.  The  freedom 
from  bodily  torture  and  unceasing  labor,  had  given 
my  mind  an  increased  sensibility,  and  imparted  to  it 
greater  activity.  I  was  not  yet  exactly  in  right  rela- 
tions. "  How  be  it,  that  was  not  first  which  is  spir- 
itual, but  that  which  is  natural,  and  afterward  that 
which  is  spiritual."  When  entombed  at  Covey's, 
shrouded  in  darkness  and  physical  wretchedness,  tem- 
poral well-being  was  the  grand  desideratiotn  ;  but,  tem- 
poral wants  supplied,  the  spirit  puts  in  its  claims. 
Beat  and  cuff  your  slave,  keep  him  hungry  and  spir- 
itless, and  he  will  follow  the  chain  of  his  master  like 
a  dog ;  but,  feed  and  clothe  him  well, — work  him  mod- 
erately— surround  him  with  physical  comfort, — and 
dreams  of  freedom  intrude.  Give  him  a  had  master, 
and  he  aspires  to  a  good  master  ;  give  him  a  good  mas- 
ter, and  he  wishes  to  become  his  owi%  master.  Such 
is  human  nature.  You  may  hurl  a  man  so  low,  be- 
neath the  level  of  his  kind,  that  he  loses  all  just  ideas 
6f  his  natural  position  ;  but  elevate  him  a  little,  and 


264:  LIFE  AS  A  SLATE. 

the  clear  conception  of  riglits  rises  to  life  and  power, 
and  leads  him  onward.  Thus  elevated,  a  little,  at  Free- 
land's,  the  dreams  called  into  being  by  that  good  man, 
Father  Lawson,  when  in  Baltimore,  began  to  visit  me  ; 
and  shoots  from  the  tree  of  liberty  began  to  put  forth 
tender  buds,  and  dito  hopes  of  the  future  began  to  dawn. 

I  found  myself  in  congenial  society,  at  Mr.  Free- 
land's.  There  were  Henry  Harris,  John  Harris,  Han- 
dy Caldwell,  and  Sandy  Jenkins.^ 

Henry  and  John  were  brothers,  and  belonged  to 
Mr.  Freeland.  They  were  both  remarkably  bright 
and  intelligent,  though  neither  of  them  could  read. 
Kow  for  mischief !  I  had  not  been  long  at  Freeland's 
before  I  was  up  to  my  old  tricks.  I  early  began  to 
address  my  companions  on  the  subject  of  education, 
and  the  advantages  of  intelligence  over  ignorance, 
and,  as  far  as  I  dared,  I  tried  to  show  the  agency  of 
ignorance  in  keeping  men  in  slavery.  Webster's 
spelling  book  and  the  Columbian  Orator  were  looked 
into  again.  As  summer  came  on,  and  the  long  Sab- 
bath days  stretched  themselves  over  our  idleness,  I 
became  uneasy,  and  wanted  a  Sabbath  school,  in 
which  to  exercise  my  gifts,  and  to  impart  the  little,- 
knowledge  of  letters  which  I  possessed,  to  my  brother  ; 
slaves.  A  house  was  hardly  necessary  in  the  sum- 
mer time ;  I  could  hold  my  school  under  the  shade 

*  This  is  the  same  man  who  gave  me  the  roots  to  prevent  my  be- 
ing whipped  by  Mr.  Cove3\  He  was  "a  clever  soul."  We  used 
frequently  to  talk  about  the  fight  with  Covey,  and  as  often  as  we 
did  so,  he  would  claim  ray  success  as  the  result  of  the  roots  which 
he  gave  me.  This  superstition  is  very  common  among  the  more 
ignorant  slaves.  A  slave  seldom  dies,  but  that  his  death  is  atti'ibu- 
ted  to  trickery. 


SABBATH  SCHOOL  INSTITUTED.  265 

of  an  old  oak  tree,  as  well  as  any  where  else.  The 
thing  was,  to  get  the  scholars,  and  to  have  them  thor- 
oughly imbued  with  the  desire  to  learn.  Two  such 
boys  were  quickly  secured,  in  Henry  and  John,  and 
from  them  the  contagion  spread.  I  was  not  long  in 
bringing  around  me  twenty  or  thirty  young  men,  who 
enrolled  themselves,  gladly,  in  my  Sabbath  school, 
and  were  willing  to  meet  me  regularly,  under  the 
trees  or  elsewhere,  for  the  purpose  of  learning  to  read. 
It  was  surprising  with  what  ease  they  provided  them- 
selves with  spelling  books.  These  were  mostly  the 
cast  off  books  of  their  young  masters  or  mistresses.  I 
taught,  at  first,  on  our  own  farm.  All  were  impressed 
with  the  necessity  of  keeping  the  matter  as  private 
as  possible,  for  the  fate  of  the  St.  Michael's  attempt 
was  notorious,  and  fresh  in  the  minds  of  all.  Our 
pious  masters,  at  St.  Michael's,  must  not  know  that  a 
few  of  tlieir  dusky  brothers  were  learning  to  read  the 
word  of  God,  lest  they  should  come  down  upon  us 
with  the  lash  and  chain.  We  might  have  met  to 
drink  whisky,  to  wrestle,  fight,  and  to  do  other  un- 
seemly things,  with  no  fear  of  interruption  from  the 
saints  or  the  sinners  of  St.  Michael's. 

But,  to  meet  for  the  purpose  of  improving  the  mind 
and  heart,  by  learning  to  read  the  sacred  scriptures, 
was  esteemed  a  most  dangerous  nuisance,  to  be  in- 
stantly stopped.  The  slaveholders  of  St.  Michael's, 
like  slaveholders  elsewhere,  would  always  prefer  to 
see  the  slaves  engaged  in  degrading  sports,  rather 
than  to  see  them  acting  like  moral  and  accountable 
beings. 

Had  any  one  asked  a  religious  white  man,  in  St. 
L 


266  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

Michael's,  twenty  years  ago,  the  names  of  three  men 
in  that  town,  whose  lives  were  most  after  the  pattern 
of  our  Lord  and  Master,  Jesus  Christ,  the  first  three 
would  have  been  as  follows  : 

Garrison  West,  Class  Leader. 

Wright  Fairbanks,   Glass  Leader 

Thomas  Auld,  Glass  Leader, 
And  yet,  these  were  the  men  who  ferociously  rushed 
in  upon  my  Sabbath  school,  at  St.  Michael's,  armed 
with  mob-like  missiles,  and  forbade  our  meetins:  aofain, 
on  pain  of  having  our  backs  made  bloody  by  the  lash. 
Tliis  same  Garrison  West  was  my  class  leader,  and  I 
must  say,  I  thought  him  a  christian,  until  he  took 
part  in  breaking  up  my  school.  He  led  me  no  more 
after  that.  The  plea  for  this  outrage  was  then,  as  it  is 
now  and  at  all  times, — the  danger  to  good  order.  If 
the  slaves  learnt  to  read,  they  would  learn  some* 
thing  else,  and  something  worse.  The  peace  of  slave- 
ry would  be  disturbed ;  slave  rule  would  be  endan- 
gered. I  leave  the  reader  to  characterize  a  system 
which  is  endangered  by  such  causes.  I  do  not  dis- 
pute the  soundness  of  the  reasoning.  It  is  perfectly 
sound  ;  and,  if  slavery  be  rights  Sabbath  schools  for 
teaching  slaves  to  read  the  bible  are  wrong^  and  ought 
to  be  put  down.  These  christian  class  leaders  were, 
to  this  extent,  consistent.  They  had  settled  the  ques- 
tion, that  slavery  is  right^  and,  by  that  standard,  they 
determined  that  Sabbath  schools  are  wrong.  To  be 
sure,  they  were  Protestant,  and  held  to  the  great  Pro- 
testant right  of  every  man  to  "  search  the  scriptures*^ 
for  himself;  but,  then,  to  all  general  rules,  there  are 
excejylions.     How  convenient !  what  crimes,  may  not 


NECESSITY  FOR  SECRECY.  267 

be  committed  under  the  doctrine  of  tlie  last  remark. 
But,  my  dear,  class  leading  Methodist  brethren,  did 
not  condescend  to  give  give  me  a  reason  for  breaking 
up  the  Sabbath  school  at  St.  Michael's  ;  it  was  enough 
that  they  had  determined  upon  its  destruction.  I  am, 
however,  digressing. 

After  getting  the  school  cleverly  into  operation,  the 
second  time — holding  it  in  the  woods,  behind  the 
barn,  and  in  the  shade  of  trees — I  succeeded  in  indu- 
cing a  free  colored  man,  who  lived  several  miles  from 
our  house,  to  permit  me  to  hold  my  school  in  a  room 
at  his  house.  He,  very  kindly,  gave  me  this  liberty ; 
but  he  incurred  much  peril  in  doing  so,  for  the  assem- 
blage was  an  unlawful  one.  I  shall  not  mention,  here, 
the  name  of  this  man ;  for  it  might,  even  now,  sub- 
ject him  to  persecution,  although  the  offenses  were 
committed  more  than  twenty  years  ago.  I  had,  at 
one  time,  more  than  forty  scholars,  all  of  the  right  sort ; 
and  many  of  them  succeeded  in  learning  to  read.  I 
have  met  several  slaves  from  Maryland,  who  were 
once  my  scholars ;  and  who  obtained  their  freedom, 
1  doubt  not,  partly  in  consequence  of  the  ideas  im- 
parted to  them  in  that  school.  I  have  had  various 
employments  during  my  short  life  ;  but  I  look  back 
to  none  with  more  satisfaction,  than  to  that  afforded 
by  my  Sunday  school.  An  attachment,  deep  and 
lasting,  sprung  up  between  me  and  my  persecuted 
pupils,  which  made  my  j)arting  from  them  intensely 
grievous ;  and,  when  I  think  that  most  of  these  dear 
souls  are  yet  shut  up  in  this  abject  thralldom,  I  am  .^,a 
overwhelmed  with  grief. 

Besides   my  Sunday  school,  I   devoted   three  eve- 


268  LITE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

niiigs  a  week  to  my  fellow  slaves,  during  the  winter. 
Let  the  reader  reflect  upon  the  fact,  that,  in  this  chris- 
tian country,  men  and  women  are  hiding  fj-om  pro- 
fessors of  religion,  in  barns,  in  the  woods  and  fields, 
in  order  to  learn  to  read  the  lioly  hible.  Those  dear 
souls,  who  came  to  my  Sabbath  school,  came  not  be- 
cause it  was  popular  or  reputable  to  attend  such  a 
place,  for  they  came  under  the  liability  of  having 
forty  stripes  laid  on  their  naked  backs.  Every  mo- 
ment they  spent  in  my  school,  they  were  under  this 
terrible  liability  ;  and,  in  this  respect,  I  was  a  sharer 
with  them.  Their  minds  had  been  cramped  and  starved 
by  their  cruel  masters  ;  the  light  of  education  had 
been  completely  excluded  ;  and  their  hard  earnings 
had  been  taken  to  educate  their  master's  children.  1 
felt  a  delight  in  circumventing  the  tyrants,  and  in 
blessing  the  victims  of  their  curses. 

The  year  at  Mr.  Freeland's  passed  off  very  smooth- 
ly, to  outward  seeming.  Xot  a  blow  was  given  me 
during  the  whole  year.  To  the  credit  of  Mr.  Free- 
land, — irreligious  though  he  v\^as — it  must  be  stated, 
that  he  was  the  best  master  I  ever  had,  until  I  became 
my  own  master,  and  assumed  for  myself,  as  I  had  a 
right  to  do,  the  responsibility  of  my  own  existence 
and  the  exercise  of  my  own  powers.  For  much  of 
the  happiness — or  absence  of  misery — with  which  I 
passed  this  year  with  Mr.  Freeland,  I  am  indebted  to 
the  genial  temper  and  ardent  friendship  of  my  broth- 
er slaves.  They  were,  every  one  of  them,  manly,  gen- 
erous and  brave,  yes  ;  I  say  they  were  brave,  and  I 
will  add,  fine  looking.  It  is  seldom  the  lot  of  mortals 
to  have  truer  and  better  friends  than  were  the  slaves 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG   SLAVES.  269 

on  this  farm.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  charge  slaves 
with  o;i-eat  treacherv  toward  each  other,  and  to  believe 
them  incapable  .of  confiding  in  each  other  ;  but  I  nmst 
say,  that  I  never  loved,  esteemed,  or  confided  in  men, 
more  than  I  did  in  these.  Tliey  were  as  true  as  steel, 
and  no  band  of  brothers  could  have  been  more  loving. 
There  were  no  mean  advantages  taken  of  each  other, 
as  is  sometimes  the  case  where  slaves  are  situated  as 
we  were ;  no  tattling ;  no  giving  each  other  bad 
names  to  Mr.  Freeland ;  and  no  elevating  one  at  the 
expense  of  the  other.  We  never  undertook  to  do 
any  thing,  of  any  importance,  which  was  likely  to 
afl'ect  each  other,  without  mutual  consultation.  We 
W'ere  generally  a  unit,  and  moved  together.  Thoughts 
and  sentiments  were  exchanged  between  us,  w^liich 
might  well  be  called  very  incendiary,  by  oppressors 
and  tyrants ;  and  perhaps  the  time  has  not  even  now 
come,  when  it  is  safe  to  unfold  all  the  fl}' ing  sugges- 
tions which  arise  in  the  minds  of  intellio-ent  slaves. 
Several  of  my  friends  and  brothers,  if  yet  alive,  are 
still  in  some  part  of  the  house  of  bondage  ;  and  though 
twenty  years  have  passed  away,  the  suspicious  malice 
of  slavery  might  punish  them  for  even  listening  to  my 
thoughts.. 

The  slaveholder,  kind  or  cruel,  is  a  slaveholder  still 
— the  every  hour  violator  of  the  just  and  inalienable 
rights  of  man  ;  and  he  is,  therefore,  every  hour  silently 
whettino:  the  knife  of  veno^eance  for  his  own  throat. 
He  never  lisps  a  syllable  in  commendation  of  the 
fathers  of  this  republic,  nor  denounces  any  attempted 
oppression  of  himself,  without  inviting  the  knife  to  his 


270  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

own  throat,  and  asserting  the  rights  of  rebellion  for 
his  own  slaves. 

The  vear  is  ended,  and  we  are  now  in  the  midst  of 
the  Christmas  holidays,  which  are  kept  this  year  as 
last,  according  to  the  general  description  previously 
given. 


.  CHAPTEE  XIX. 

THE  RUN-AWAY  PLOT. 


-'„ 


NEW  YEAR  S    THOUGHTS  AXD    MEDITATIONS AGAIN  BOUGHT  BY  FREE  LAND 

NO  AMBITION  TO  BE  A  SLAVE KINDNESS  NO  COMPENSATION  FOR  SLAVERY 

INCIPIENT   STEPS  TOWARD  ESCAPE CONSIDERATIONS  LEADING  THERETO 

IRRECONCILABLE    HOSTILITY  TO    SLAVERY SOLEMN  VOW  TAKEN PLAN 

DIVULGED    TO    THE    SLAVES COLUMBIAN    ORATOR SCHEME  GAINS  FAVOR, 

DESPITE    PRO-SLAVERY    PREACHING DANGER     OF     DISCOVERY SKILL     OF 

SLAVEHOLDERS  IN  READING  THE  MINDS  OF    THEIR  SLAVES SUSPICION  AND 

COERCION HYMNS  WITH    DOUBLE   MEANING VALUE,   IN  DOLLARS,   OF  OUR 

COMPANY PRELOIINARY  CONSULTATION PASS-WORD CONFLICTS  OF  HOPE 

AND  FEAR DIFFICULTIES  TO  BE  OVERCOME IGNORANCE  OF  GEOGRAPHY 

SURVEY    OF    IMAGINARY    DIFFICULTIES EFFECT    ON    OUR   MINDS PATRICK 

HENRY SANDY    BECOMES  A  DREAMER ROUTE  TO  THE  NORTH  LAID  OUT 

OBJECTIONS  CONSIDERED FRAUDS  PRACTICED  ON  FREEMEN PASSES  WRIT- 
TEN  ANXIETIES  AS  THE  TIME  DREW  NEAR DREAD  OF  FAILURE APPEALS 

TO  COMRADES STRANGE   PRESENTIMENT COINCIDENCE THE     BETRAYAL 

DISCOVERED THE  MANNER  OF  ARRESTING  US RESISTANCE  MADE  BY  HEN- 
RY   HARRIS ITS    EFFECT THE    UNIQUE  SPEECH  OF  MRS.    FREELAND OUR 

SAD    PROCESSION    TO    PRISON ^BRUTAL    JEERS    BY    THE    MULTITUDE  ALONG 

THE  ROAD PASSES  EATEN THE  DENIAL SANDY  TOO  WELL  LOVED  TO  BE 

SUSPECTED DRAGGED    BEHIND    HORSES THE  JAIL  A  RELIEF A  NEW  SET 

OF  TORMENTORS SLAVE-TRADERS JOHN,  CHARLES  AND  HENRY  RELEASED 

THE    AUTHOR     LEFT    ALONE  IN  PRISON HE  IS  TAKEN  OUT,   AND  SENT  TO 

BALTIMORE. 

I  AM  now  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  1836,  a  time 
favorable  for  serious  thoughts.  The  mind  naturally 
occupies  itself  with  tlie  mysteries  of  life  in  all  its 
phases — the  ideal,  the  real  and  the  actual.  Sober 
people  look  both  ways  at  the  beginning  of  the  year, 
surveying  the  errors  of  the  past,  and  providing  against 
possible  ei-rors  of  the  future.  I,  too,  was  thus  exer- 
cised.    I  had  little  pleasure  in  retrospect,  and  the 


272  LIFE    AS  A  SLAVE. 

prospect  was  not  very  brilliant.  "  Notwithstanding," 
thonght  I,  "  the  many  resolutions  and  prayers  I  have 
made,  in  behalf  of  freedom,  I  am,  this  first  day  of  the 
year  1836,  still  a  slave,  still  wanderirg  in  the  depths 
of  spirit-devouring  thralldom.  My  faculties  and 
powers  of  body  and  soul  are  not  my  own,  but  are  the 
property  of  a  fellow  mortal,  in  no  sense  superior  to 
me,  except  that  he  has  the  physical  power  to  com^^el 
me  to  be  owned  and  controlled  by  him.  By  the  com- 
bined physical  force  of  the  community,  I  am  his  slave, 
- — a  slave  for  life."  With  thoughts  like  these,  I  was 
perplexed  and  chafed ;  they  rendered  me  gloomy  and 
disconsolate.  The  anguish  of  my  mind  may  not  be 
written. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1835,  Mr.  Freeland,  my 
temporary  master,  had  bought  me  of  Capt.  Thomas 
Auld,  for  the  year  1836.  His  promptness  in  securing 
my  services,  would  hpvve  been  flattering  to  my  vanity, 
had  I  been  ambitious  to  win  the  reputation  of  being 
a  valuable  slave.  Even  as  it  was,  I  felt  a  slight  de- 
gree of  complacency  at  the  circumstance.  It  showed 
he  was  as  well  pleased  with  me  as  a  slave,  as  I  was 
with  him  as  a  master.  I  have  alread}^  intimated  my 
regard  for  Mr.  Freeland,  and  I  may  say  here,  in  ad- 
dressinii:  northern  readers — where  there  is  no  selfish 
motive  for  speaking  in  praise  of  a  slaveholder — that 
Mr.  Freeland  was  a  man  of  many  excellent  quali- 
ties, and  to  me  quite  preferable  to  any  master  I  ever 
had. 

But  the  kindness  of  the  slavemaster  only  gilds  the 
chain  of  slavery,  and  detracts  nothing  from  its  weight 
or  power.     The  thought  that  men  are  made  for  other 


INCIPIENT  STEPS  TOWARD  ESCAPE.  273 

and  better  uses  than  slavery,  thrives  best  under  the 
gentle  treatment  of  a  kind  master.  But  the  grim  vis- 
age of  slavery  can  assume  no  smiles  which  can  fasci- 
nate the  partially  enlightened  slave,  into  a  forgetful- 
ness  of  his  bondage,  nor  of  the  desirableness  of  liberty. 
I  was  not  through  the  first  month  of  this,  my  se- 
cond year  with  the  kind  and  gentlemanly  Mr.  Free- 
land,  before  I  was  earnestly  considering  and  devising 
plans  for  gaining  that  freedom,  which,  when  I  w^as 
but  a  mere  child,  I  had  ascertained  to  be  the  natural 
and  inborn  right  of  every  member  of  the  human  fam- 
ily. The  desire  for  this  freedom  had  been  benumbed, 
while  I  was  under  the  brutalizing  dominion  of  Covey ; 
and  it  had  been  postponed,  and  rendered  inoperative, 
by  my  truly  pleasant  Sunday  school  engagements 
with  my  friends,  during  the  year  1835,  at  Mr.  Free- 
land's.  It  had,  however,  never  entirely  subsided.  I 
hated  slavery,  always,  and  the  desire  for  freedom  on- 
ly needed  a  favorable  breeze,  to  fan  it  into  a  blaze,  at 
any  moment.  The  thought  of  only  being  a  creature 
of  the  2:)rese?it  and  the  past,  troubled  me,  and  I  longed 
to  have  a  future — a  future  with  hope  in  it.  To  be 
shut  up  entirely  to  the  past  and  j)resent,  is  abhorrent 
to  the  human  mJnd ;  it  is  to  the  soul — whose  life  and 
happiness  is  unceasing  progress — what  the  prison  is 
to  the  body;  a  blight  and  mildew,  a  hell  of  horrors. 
The  dawning  of  this,  another  year,  awakened  me  from 
my  temporary  slumber,  and  roused  into  life  my  la- 
tent, but  long  cherished  aspirations  for  freedom.  I 
was  now  not  only  ashamed  to  be  contented  in  slave- 
ry, but  ashamed  to  seem  to  be  contented,  and  in  my 
present  favorable  condition,  under  the  mild  rule  of 


274  LIFE   AS  A  SLATE. 

Mr.  F.,  I  am  not  sure  that  some  kind  reader  will 
not  condemn  me  for  being  over  ambitious,  and  greatly 
wanting  in  proper  liumility,  when  I  say  the  truth, 
that  I  now  drove  from  me  all  thoughts  of  making 
the  best  of  my  lot,  and  welcomed  only  such  thoughts 
as  led  me  away  from,  the  house  of  bondage.  The  in- 
tense desire,  now  felt,  to  he  freCj  quickened  by  my 
present  favorable  circumstances,  brought  me  to  the 
determination  to  acty  as  well  as  to  think  and  speak. 
Accordingly,  at  the  beginning  of  this  year  1836,  I 
took  upon  me  a  solemn  vow,  that  the  year  which  had 
now  dawned  upon  me  should  not  close,  without  wit- 
nessing an  earnest  attempt,  on  my  part,  to  gain  my 
liberty.  This  vow  only  bound  me  to  make  my  escape 
individually ;  but  the  year  spent  with  Mr.  Freeland 
had  attached  me,  as  with  "  hooks  of  steel,"  to  my  broth- 
er slaves.  The  most  affectionate  and  confiding  friend- 
ship existed  between  us  ;  and  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  give 
them  an  opportunity  to  share  in  my  virtuous  deter- 
mination, by  frankly  disclosing  to  them  my  plans  and 
purposes.  Toward  Henry  and  John  Harris,  I  felt  a 
friendship  as  strong  as  one  man  can  feel  for  another ; 
for  I  could  have  died  with  and  for  them.  To  them, 
therefore,  with  a  suitable  degree  of  caution,  I  began 
to  disclose  my  sentiments  and  plans  ;  sounding  them, 
the  while,  on  the  subject  of  running  away,  provided 
a  good  chance  should  offer.  I  scarcely  need  tell  the 
reader,  that  I  did  my  very  hest  to  imbue  the  minds  of 
my  dear  friends  with  my  own  views  and  feelings. 
Thoroughly  awakened,  now,  and  with  a  definite  vow 
upon  me,  all  my  little  reading,  which  had  any  bear- 
ing  on   the  subject  of  human  rights,  was  rendered 


FEEE  FEOM  PRO-SLAVEET  PElESTCEAFT.  _         275 

available  in  my  communications  with  my  friends. 
That  (to  me)  gem  of  a  book,  the  Columbian  Orator, 
with  its  eloquent  orations  and  spicy  dialogues,  denoun- 
cing oppression  and  slavery — telling  of  what  had  been 
dared,  done  and  suflered  by  men,  to  obtain  the  ines- 
timable boon  of  liberty — was  still  fresh  in  my  mem- 
ory, and  whirled  into  the  ranks  of  my  speech  with  the 
aptitude  of  well  trained  soldiers,  going  through  the 
drill.  The  fact  is,  I  here  began  my  public  speaking. 
I  canvassed,  with  Henry  and  John,  the  subject  of 
slavery,  and  dashed  against  it  the  condemning  brand 
of  God's  eternal  justice,  which  it  every  hour  violates. 
My  fellow  servants  were  neither  indifierent,  dull,  nor 
inapt.  Our  feelings  were  more  alike  than  our  opin- 
ions. All,  however,  were  ready  to  act,  when  a  feasi- 
ble plan  should  be  proposed.  "  Show  us  lioio  the 
thing  is  to  be  done,"  said  they,  "  and  all  else  is  clear." 
"We  were  all,  except  Sandy,  quite  free  from  slave- 
holding  priestcraft.  It  was  in  vain  that  we  had  been 
taught  from  the  pulpit  at  St.  Michael's,  the  duty  of 
obedience  to  our  masters ;  to  recognize  God  as  the 
author  of  our  enslavement ;  to  regard  running  away 
an  offense,  alike  against  God  and  man ;  to  deem  our 
enslavement  a  merciful  and  beneficial  arrangement  ; 
to  esteem  our  condition,  in  this  country,  a  paradise 
to  that  from  which  we  had  been  snatched  in  Africa  ; 
to  consider  our  hard  hands  and  dark  color  as  God's 
mark  of  displeasure,  and  as  pointing  us  out  as  the 
proper  subjects  of  slavery ;  that  the  relation  of  mas- 
ter and  slave  was  one  of  reciprocal  benefits ;  that 
our  work  was  not  more  serviceable  to  our  masters, 
than  our  master's  thinking  was  serviceable  to  us.     I 


276  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

say,  it  was  in  vain  that  the  pulpit  of  St.  Michael's 
had  constantly  inculcated  these  plansible  doctrines. 
^Nature  langhed  them  to  scorn.  For  my  own  part,  I 
had  now  become  altogether  too  big  for  my  chains. 
Father  Lawson's  solemn  words,  of  what  I  onght  to  be, 
and  might  be,  in  the  providence  of  God,  had  not  fal- 
len dead  on  my  soul.  I  was  fast  verging  toward  man 
hood,  and  the  prophecies  of  my  childhood  were  still 
unfulfilled.  .  The  thought,  that  year  after  year  had 
passed  away,  and  my  best  resolutions  to  run  away  had 
failed  and  faded — that  I  was  still  a  slave^  and  a  slave, 
too,  with  chances  for  gaining  my  freedom  diminished 
and  still  diminishing — was  not  a  matter  to  be  slept 
over  easily ;  nor  did  I  easily  sleep  over  it. 

But  here  came  a  new  trouble.  Thoughts  and  pur- 
poses so  incendiary  as  those  I  now  cherished,  could 
not  agitate  the  mind  long,  without  danger  of  making 
themselves  manifest  to  scrutinizing  and  unfriendly 
beholders.  I  had  reason  to  fear  that  my  sable  face 
might  prove  altogether  too  transparent  for  the  safe 
concealment  of  my  hazardous  enterprise.  Plans  of 
greater  moment  have  leaked  throTTgh  stone  walls,  and 
revealed  their  projectors.  But,  here  was  no  stone 
wall  to  hide  my  purpose.  I  would  have  given  my 
poor,  tell  tale  face  for  the  immovable  countenance  of 
an  Indian,  for  it  was  far  from  being  proof  against  the 
daily,  searching  glances  of  those  with  whom  I  met. 

It  is  the  interest  and  business  of  slaveholders  to 
study  human  nature,  with  a  view  to  practical  results, 
and  many  of  them  attain  astonishing  proficiency  in 
discerning  the  thoughts  and  emotions  of  slaves.  They 
have  to  deal  not  with  earth,  wood,  or  stone,  but  with 


SUSPICION   AND   COEECION.  277 

men  /  and,  by  every  regard  they  have  for  their  safety 
and  prosperity,  they  must  study  to  know  the  material 
on  vrhich  they  are  at  work.  So  much  intellect  as  the 
slaveholder  has  around  him,  requires  watching.  Their 
safety  depends  upon  their  vigilance.  Conscious  of 
the  injustice  and  wrong  they  are  every  hour  perpe- 
trating, and  knowing  what  they  themselves  would  do 
if  made  the  victims  of  such  wrongs,  they  are  looking 
out  for  the  first  signs  of  the  dread  retribution  of  jus- 
tice. They  watch,  therefore,  with  skilled  and  prac- 
ticed eyes,  and  have  learned  to  read,  with  great  ac- 
curacy, the  state  of  mind  and  heart  of  the  slave, 
through  his  sable  face.  These  uneasy  sinners  are 
quick  to  inquire  into  the  matter,  where  the  slave  is 
concerned.  Unusual  sobriety,  apparent  abstraction, 
sullenness  and  indiflerence — indeed,  any  mood  out  of 
the  common  way — afford  ground  for  suspicion  and 
inquiry.  Often  relying  on  their  superior  position  and 
wisdom,  they  hector  and  torture  the  slave  into  a  con- 
fession, by  affecting  to  know  the  truth  of  their  accu- 
sations. "  You  have  got  the  devil  in  you,"  say  they, 
"  and  we  will  whip  him  out  of  you."  I  have  often 
been  put  thus  to  the  torture,  on  bare  suspicion.  This 
system  has  its  disadvantages  as  well  as  their  opposite. 
The  slave  is  sometimes  whipped  into  the  confession 
of  offenses  which  he  never  committed.  The  reader 
will  see  that  the  good  old  rule — "  a  man  is  to  bo 
held  innocent  until  proved  to  be  guilty  " — does  not 
hold  good  on  the  slave  plantation.  Suspicion  and 
torture  are  the  approved  methods  of  getting  at  the 
truth,  here.     It  was  necessary  for  me,  therefore,  to 


278  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

keep  a  watch  over  my  deportment,  lest  the  enemy 
should  get  the  better  of  me. 

But  with  all  our  caution  and  studied  reserve,  I  am 
not  sure  that  Mr.  Freeland  did  not  suspect  that  all 
was  not  right  with  us.  It  did  seem  that  he  watclied  us 
more  narrowly,  after  the  plan  of  escape  had  been  con- 
ceived and  discussed  amongst  us.  Men  seldom  see 
themselves  as  others  see  them  ;  and  while,  to  our- 
selves, everything  connected  with  our  contemplated 
escape  appeared  concealed,  Mr.  Freeland  may  have, 
with  the  peculiar  prescience  of  a  slaveholder,  mas- 
tered the  huo;e  thouo-ht  which  was  disturbino^  oitr 
peace  in  slavery. 

I  am  the  more  inclined  to  think  that  he  susj)ected 
us,  because,  prudent  as  we  were,  as  I  now  look  back, 
I  can  see  that  we  did  many  silly  things,  very  well 
calculated  to  awaken  suspicion.  We  were,  at  times, 
remarkably  buoyant,  singing  hymns  and  making  joy- 
ous exclamations,  almost  as  triumphant  in  their  tone 
as  if  we  had  reached  a  land  of  freedom  and  safety. 
A  keen  observer  might  have  detected  in  our  repeated^ 
singing  of 

"0  Canaan,  sweet  Canaan, 

I  am  bound  for  the  land  of  Canaan," 

something  more  than  a  hope  of  reaching  heaven. 
We  meant  to  reach  the  Qiorth — and  the  north  was  our 
Canaan 

"  I  thought  I  heard  them  say, 
There  were  lions  in  the  way, 
I  don't  expect  to  stay 
Much  longer  here. 


HYMNS   WITH   A   DOUBLE   MEANING.  279 

Kua  to  Jesus — -shun  the  danger — 
I  don't  expect  to  stay 
Much  longer  here," 

was  a  favorite  air,  and  bad  a  doiiMe  meaning.  In 
the  lips  of  some,  it  meant  the  expectation  of  a  speedy 
summons  to  a  worhl  of  spirits  ;  but,  in  the  lips  of  our 
company,  it  simply  meant,  a  speedy  pilgrimage  to- 
ward a  free  state,  and  deliverance  from  all  the  evils 
and  dangers  of  slavery. 

I  bad  succeeded  in  winning  to  my  (what  slavehold- 
ers would  call  wicked)  scheme,  a  company  of  five 
young  men,  the  very  flower  of  the  neighborhood,  each 
one  of  whom  would  have  commanded  one  thousand 
dollars  in  the  home  market.  At  Xev/  Orleans,  they 
would  have  brought  fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  piece, 
and,  perhaps,  more.  The  names  of  our  party  were 
as  follows :  Henry  Harris ;  John  Harris,  brother  to 
Henry ;  Sandy  Jenkins,  of  root  memory ;  Charles 
Koberts,  and  Henry  Bailey.  I  was  the  youngest,  but 
one,  of  the  party.  I  had,  hov/ever,  the  advantage  of 
them  all,  in  experience,  and  in  a  knowledge  of  letters, 
^his  gave  me  great  influence  over  them.  Perhaps 
not  one  of  them,  left  to  himself,  would  have  dreamed 
of  escape  as  a  possible  thing.  ]^ot  one  of  them  was 
self-moved  in  the  matter.  They  all  wanted  to  be 
free ;  but  the  serious  thought  of  running  away,  had 
not  entered  into  their  minds,  until  I  won  them  to  the 
undertaking.  Tliey  all  were  tolerably  well  off — for 
slaves — and  had  dim  hopes  of  being  set  free,  some 
day,  by  their  masters.  If  any  one  is  to  blame  for 
disturbing  the  quiet  of  the  slaves  and  slave-masters 
of  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Michael's,  I  am  the  man. 


280  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

I  claim  to  be  the  instigator  of  the  high  crime,  (as 
the  slaveholders  regard  it,)  and  I  kej^t  life  in  it,  until 
life  conld  be  kept  in  it  no  longer. 

Pending  the  time  of  our  contemplated  departure 
out  of  our  Egypt,  we  met  often  by  night,  and  on  ev- 
ery Sunday.  At  these  meetings  we  talked  the  matter 
over  ;  told  our  hopes  and  fears,  and  the  difficulties 
discovered  or  imagined ;  and,  like  men  of  sense,  we 
counted  the  cost  of  the  enterprise  to  wdiicli  we  were 
committing  ourselves. 
■  These  meetings  must  have  resembled,  on  a  small 
scale,  the  meetings  of  revolutionary  conspirators,  in 
their  primary  condition.  We  were  plotting  against 
our  (so  called)  lawful  rulers ;  with  this  difference — 
that  we  sought  our  own  good,  and  not  the  harm  of  our 
enemies.  We  did  not  seek  to  overthrow  them,  but  to 
escape  from  them.  As  for  Mr.  Freeland,  we  all  liked 
him,  and  would  have  gladly  remained  with  him,  as 
freemen.  Liberty  was  our  aim ;  and  we  had  now 
come  to  think  that  we  had  a  riojht  to  libertv,  airainst 
every  obstacle — even  against  the  lives  of  our  enslavers. 

We  had  several  words,  expressive  of  things,  impor- 
tant to  us,  which  we  understood,  but  which,  even  if 
distinctly  heard  by  an  outsider,  would  convey  no  cer- 
tain meaning.  I  have  reasons  for  suppressing  these 
jpass-words^  which  the  reader  will  easily  divine.  I 
hated  the  secrecy ;  but  where  slavery  is  powerful, 
and  liberty  is  weak,  the  latter  is  driven  to  conceal- 
ment or  to  destruction. 

The  prospect  was  not  alwa3''s  a  bright  one.  At 
times,  we  Vv^ere  almost  tempted  to  abandon  the  enter- 
prise, and  to  get  back  to  that  comparative  peace  of 


IGNOEANCE  OF  GEOGEAPnY.  281 

mind,  which  even  a  man  under  the  gallows  might 
feel,  when  all  hope  of  escape  had  vanished.  Quiet 
boiidage  was  felt  to  be  better  than  the  doubts,  fears 
and  uncertainties,  w^hich  now  so  sadly  perplexed  and 
disturbed  us. 

The  infirmities  of  humanity,  generally,  were  rep- 
resented in  our  little  band.  We  were  confident,  bold 
and  determined,  at  times;  and,  again,  doubting,  timid 
and  wavering ;  whistling,  like  the  boy  in  the  grave- 
yard, to  keep  away  the  spirits. 

To  look  at  the  map,  and  observe  the  proximity  of 
Eastern  Shore,  Maryland,  to  Delaware  and  Pennsyl- 
vania, it  may  seem  to  the  reader  cpite  absurd,  to 
regard  the  proposed  escape  as  a  formidable  underta- 
king. But  to  understand^  some  one  has  said  a  man 
must  stand  under.  The  real  distance  was  great 
enough,  but  the  imagined  distance  was,  to  our  igno- 
rance, even  greater.  Every  slaveholder  seeks  to  im- 
press his  slave  Vvith  a  belief  in  the  boundlessness  of 
slave  territory,  and  of  his  own  almost  illimitable  power. 
We  all  had  vague  and  indistinct  notions  of  the  geog- 
raphy of  the  country. 

The  distance,  however,  is  not  the  chief  trouble.  The 
nearer  are  the  lines  of  a  slave  state  and  the  borders 
of  a  free  one,  the  greater  the  peril.  Hired  kidnap- 
pers infest  these  borders.  Then,  too,  we  knew  that 
merely  reaching  a  free  state  did  not  free  us ;  that, 
wherever  caught,  we  could  be  returned  to  slavery. 
We  could  see  no  sj^ot  on  this  side  the  ocean,  where 
we  could  be  free.  We  had  heard  of  Canada,  the  real 
Canaan  of  the  American  bondmen,  simply  as  a  coun- 
try to  which  the  wild  goose  and  the  swan  repaired  at 


282  LIFE  AS  A  SLAY?:. 

the  end  of  winter,  to  escape  the  heat  of  summer,  but 
not  as  the  home  of  man.  I  knew  something  of  the- 
ology, but  nothing  of  geography.  I  really  did  not,  at 
that  time,  know  that  there  was  a  state  of  i^ew  York, 
or  a  state  of  Massachusetts.  I  had  heard  of  Penn- 
sylvania, Delaware  and  ISTew  Jersey,  and  all  the  south- 
ern states,  but  was  ignorant  of  the  free  states,  gener- 
ally. New  York  city  was  our  northern  limit,  and  to 
go  there,  and  to  be  forever  harassed  with  the  liability 
of  being  hunted  down  and  returned  to  slavery — with 
the  certainty  of  being  treated  ten  times  worse  than 
we  had  ever  been  treated  before — was  a  prospect  far 
from  delightful,  and  it  might  well  cause  some  hesita- 
tion about  engaging  in  the  enterprise.  The  case, 
sometimes,  to  our  (^cj4:ed  visions,  stood  thus :  At 
every  gate  through  which  we  had  to  pass,  we  saw  a 
watchman  ;  at  every  ferry,  a  guard  ;  on  every  bridge, 
a  sentinel ;  and  in  every  wood,  a  patrol  or  slave-hun- 
ter. We  were  hemmed  in  on  every  side.  The  good 
to  be  sought,  and  the  evil  to  be  shunned,  were  flung 
in  the  balance,  and  weighed  against  each  other.  On 
the  one  hand,  there  stood  slavery  ;  a  stern  reality, 
glaring  frightfully  upon  us,  with  the  blood  of  millions 
in  his  polluted  skirts — terrible  to  behold — greedily  de- 
vouring our  hard  earnings  and  feeding  himself  upon 
our  flesh.  Here  was  the  evil  from  which  to  escape.  On 
the  other  hand,  far  away,  back  in  the  hazy  distance, 
where  all  forms  seemed  but  shadows,  under  the  flick- 
ering light  of  the  north  star — behind  some  craggy  hill 
or  snow-covered  mountain — stood  a  doubtful  freedom, 
half  frozen,  beckoning  us  to  her  icy  domain.  This 
was,  the  good  to  be  sought.     The  inequality  was  as 


IMAGINAET  DIFFICULTIES.  28? 

great  as  tliat  between  certainty  and  uncertainty.  Tins, 
in  itself,  was  enough  to  stagger  us ;  but  when  we  came 
to  survey  the  untrodden  road,  and  conjecture  the 
many  possible  difficulties,  we  were  appalled,  and  at 
times,  as  I  have  said,  were  upon  the  point  of  giving 
over  the  struggle  altogether. 

Tlie  reader  can  have  little  idea  of  the  phantoms  of 
trouble  which  flit,  in  such  circumstances,  before  the 
uneducated  mind  of  the  slave.  Upon  either  side,  we 
saw  grim  death  assuming  a  variety  of  horrid  shapes. 
Now,  it  was  starvation,  causing  us,  in  a  strange  and 
friendless  land,  to  eat  our  own  flesh.  Now,  we  were 
contending  with  the  waves,  (for  our  journey  was  in 
part  by  water,)  and  were  drowned.  Now,  we  were 
hunted  by  dogs,  and  overtaken  and  torn  to  pieces  by 
their  merciless  fangs.  We  were  stung  by  scorpions — 
chased  by  wild  beasts — bitten  by  snakes  ;  and,  worst 
of  all,  after  having  succeeded  in  swimming  rivers — 
encountering  wild  beasts — sleeping  in  the  woods 
— suffering  hunger,  cold,  heat  and  nakedness — we 
supposed  ourselves  to  be  overtaken  by  hired  kidnap- 
pers, who,  in  the  name  of  the  law,  and  for  their  thrice 
accursed  reward,  would,  percliance,  fire  upon  us — 
kill  some,  wound  others,  and  capture  all.  This  dark 
picture,  drawn  by  ignorance  and  fear,  at  times  greatly 
shook  our  determination,  and  not  unfrequently  caused 
us  to 

"Rather  bear  those  ills  we  had 
Than  fly  to  others  which  we  knew  not  of." 

I  am  not  disposed  to  magnify  this  circumstance  in 
my  experience,  and  yet  I  think  I  shall  seem  to  be  so 


284:  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

disposed,  to  the  reader.  jN"o  man  can  tell  the  intense 
agony  which  is  felt  by  the  slave,  when  wavering  on 
the  point  of  making  his  escape.  All  that  he  has  is 
at  stake  ;  and  even  that  which  he  has  not,  is  at  stake, 
also.  The  life  v.diich  he  has,  may  be  lost,  and  the  \ 
liberty  which  he  seeks,  may  not  be  gained.  v 

^  Patrick  Henry,  to  a  listening  senate,  thrilled  by  his  ' 
magic  eloquence,  and  ready  to  stand  by  him  in  his 
boldest  flights,  could  say,  "  Give  me  Liberty  or  give 
ME  Death,"  and  this  saying  was  a  sublime  one,  even 
for  a  freeman ;  but,  incomparably  more  sublime,  is 
the  same  sentiment,  ^Y\len  ^:)ractically  asserted  by  men 
accustomed  to  the  lash  and  chain — men  whose  sensi- 
bilities must  have  become   more  or  less   deadened  by 

,  their  bondage.  With  us  it  was  a  doiibtful  liberty,  at 
best,  that  we  sought;  and  a  certain,  lingering  death 
in  the  rice  swamps  and  sugar  fields,  if  we  failed.  Life 
is  not  lightly  regarded  by  men  of  sane  minds;  It  is 
precious,  alike  to  the  pauper  and  to  the  prince — to 
the  slave,  and  to  his  master;  and  yet,  I  believe  there 
was  not  one  among  us,  who  would  not  rather  have 
been  shot  down,  than  pass  away  life  in  hopeless 
bondage.    . 

In  the  progress  of  our  jDreparations,  Sandy,  the  root 
man,  became  troubled.  He  began  to  have  dreams, 
and  some  of  them  were  very  distressing.  One  of 
these,  which  liappened  on  a  Friday  night,  was,  to  him, 
of  great  significance  ;  and  I  am  quite  ready  to  confess, 
that  I  felt  somewhat  damped  by  it  myself.  He  said, 
*'I  dreamed,  last  night,  that  I  was  roused  from  sleep, 
by  strange  noises,  like  the  voices  of  a  swarm  of  angry 

^  birds,  that  caused  a  roar  as  they  passed,  which  fell 


bandy's  dee  Air.  285 

upon  my  ear  like  a  coming  gale  over  the  tops  of  the  ' 
trees.  Looking  up  to  see  what  it  could  mean,'-  said 
Sandy,  "I  saw  you,  Frederick,  in  the  claws  of  a  huge 
bird,  surrounded  by  a  large  number  of  birds,  of  all 
colors  and  sizes.  These  were  all  picking  at  you,  while 
yon,  with  your  arms,  seemed  to  be  trying  to  protect 
your  eyes.  Passing  over  me,  the  birds  flew  in  a 
south-westerly  direction,  and  I  w^atched  them  until 
they  were  clean  out  of  sight.  Kow,  I  saw  this  as 
plainly  as  I  now  see  you;  and  fnrder,  honey,  watch 
de  Friday  night  dream  ;  dare  is  sumpon  in  it,  shoso 
you  born;  dare  is,  indeed,  honey."  j 

I  confess  I  did  not  like  this  dream  ;  but  I  threw  off 
concern  about  it,  by  attributing  it  to  the  general  ex- 
citement and  perturbation  consequent  upon  our  con- 
templated plan  of  escape.  I  could  not,  however, 
shake  off  its  effect  at  once.  I  felt  that  it  boded 
me  no  good.  Sandy  was  unusually  emphatic  and 
oracular,  and  his  manner  had  much  to  do  with  the 
impression  made  upon  me. 

The  plan  of  escape  which  I  recommended,  and  to 
which  my  comrades  assented,  was  to  take  a  large  ca- 
noe, owned  by  Mr.  Hamilton,  and,  on  the  Saturday 
night  previous  to  the  Easter  holidays,  launch  out  into 
the  Chesapeake  bay,  and  paddle  for  its  head, — a  dis- 
tance of  seventy  miles — with  all  our  might.  Our 
course,  on  reaching  this  point,  was,  to  turn  the  canoe 
adrifr,  and  bend  our  steps  toward  the  north  star,  till 
we  reached  a  free  state. 

There  were  several  objections  to  this  plan.  One 
was,  the  danger  from  gales  on  the  bay.  In  rough 
weather,  the  waters  of  the  Chesapeake  are  much  agi- 


286  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

tated,  and  there  is  danger,  in  a  canoe,  of  being  swamped 
by  the  waves.  Another  objection  v/as,  that  the  ca- 
noe would  soon  be  missed  ;  the  absent  persons  would, 
at  once,  be  suspected  of  having  taken  it ;  and  we 
should  be  pursued  by  some  of  the  fast  sailing  bay 
craft  out  of  St.  Michael's.  Then,  again,  if  we  reached 
the  head  of  the  bay,  and  turned  th^  canoe  adrift,  she 
might  prove  a  guide  to  our  track,  and  bring  the  land 
hunters  after  us. 

These  and  other  objections  were  set  aside,  by  the 
stronger  ones  which  could  be  urged  against  every 
other  plan  that  could  then  be  suggested.  On  the  wa- 
ter, we  had  a  chance  of  being  regarded  as  fishermen, 
in  the  service  of  a  master.  On  the  other  hand,  by 
taking  the  land  route,  through  the  counties  adjoining 
Delaware,  we  should  be  subjected  to  all  manner  of 
interruptions,  and  many  very  disagreeable  questions^ 
which  might  give  us  serious  trouble.  Any  white  man 
is  authorized  to  stop  a  man  of  color,  on  any  road,  and 
examine  him,  and  arrest  him,  if  he  so  desires. 

By  this  arrangement,  many  abuses  (considered  such 
even  by  slaveholders)  occur.     Cases  have  been  known, 

/"  wliere  freemen  have  been  called  upon  to  show  their 

■     free  papers,  by  a  pack  of  ruffians — and,  on  the  pre- 
sentation of  the  papers,  the  ruffians  have  torn  them 

I    Tip,  and  seized  their  victim,  and  sold  him  to  a  life  of 

y endless  bondage. 

The  week  before  our  intended  start,  I  WTote  a  pass 
for  each  of  our  party,  giving  them  permission  to  visit 
Baltimore,  during  the  Easter  holidays.  The  pass  ran 
after  this  manner : 


PASSES  WKITTEISr.  287 

"  This  is  to  certify,  that  I,  the  undersigned,  have  given  the 

bearer,  my  servant,  John,  full  liberty  to  go  to  Baltimore,  to 

spend  the  Easter  holidays. 

«W.  H. 

"  Near  St.  Michael's,  Talbot  county,  Maryland." 

•  Althougb  we  were  not  going  to  Baltimore,  and 
were  intending  to  land  east  of  North  Point,  in  the  di- 
rection where  I  had  seen  the  Philadelphia  steamers 
go,  these  passes  might  be  made  useful  to  ns  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  bay,  while  steering  toward  Balti- 
more. These  were  not,  however,  to  be  shown  by  us, 
until  all  other  answers  failed  to  satisfy  the  inquirer. 
We  were  all  fully  alive  to  the  importance  of  being 
calm  and  self-possessed,  when  accosted,  if  accosted 
we  should  be  ;  and  we  more  times  than  one  rehearsed 
to  each  other  how  v/e  should  behave  in  the  hour  of 
trial. 

Those  were  long,  tedious  days  and  nights.  Tlie 
suspense  was  painful,  in  the  extreme.  To  balance 
probabilities,  wdiere  life  and  liberty  hang  on  the  re- 
sult, requires  steady  nerves.  I  panted  for  action,  and 
was  glad  when  the  day,  at  the  close  of  which  we  were 
to  start,  dawned  upon  us.  Sleeping,  the  night  before, 
was  out  of  the  question.  I  probably  felt  more  deeply 
than  any  of  my  companions,  because  I  was  the  insti- 
gator of  the  movement.  The  responsibility  of  the 
whole  enterprise  rested  on  my  shoulders.  The  glory 
of  success,  and  the  shame  and  confusion  of  failure, 
could  not  be  matters  of  indifference  to  me.  Our  food 
was  prepared  ;  our  clothes  were  packed  up  ;  we  were 
all  ready  to  go,  and  impatient  for  Saturday  morning — 
considering  that  the  last  morning  of  our  bondage. 


28 8  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

I  cannot  describe  the  tempest  and  tnmnlt  of  my 
brain,  that  morning.  The  reader  will  please  to  bear 
in  mind,  that,  in  a  slave  state,  an  unsuccessful  run- 
away is  not  only  subjected  to  cruel  torture,  and  sold 
away  to  the  far  south,  but  he  is  frequently  execrated 
by  the  other  slaves.  He  is  charged  with  making  the 
condition  of  the  other  slaves  intolerable,  by  laying 
them  all  under  the  suspicion  of  their  masters — sub- 
jecting tliem  to  greater  vigilance,  and  imposing  great- 
er limitations  on  their  privileges.  I  dreaded  murmurs 
from  this  quarter.  It  is  difficult,  too,  for  a  slave-mas- 
ter to  believe  that  slaves  escaping  have  not  been  aided 
in  their  fliglit  by  some  one  of  their  fellow  slaves. 
When,  therefore,  a  slave  is  missing,  every  slave  on  the 
place  is  closely  examined  as  to  his  knowledge  of  the 
undertaking  ;  and  they  are  sometimes  even  tortured, 
to  make  them  disclose  what  they  are  suspected  of 
knowing  of  such  esca]3e. 

Our  anxiety  grew  more  and  more  intense,  as  the 
time  of  our  intended  departure  for  the  north  drew 
nigh.  It  was  truly  felt  to  be  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  with  us  ;  and  w^e  fully  intended  Xo  fight  as  w^ell 
as  run^  if  necessity  should  occur  for  that  extremity. 
But  the  trial  hour  was  not  yet  come.  It  was  easy  to 
resolve,  but  not  so  easy  to  act.  I  expected  there 
might  be  some  drawing  back,  at  the  last.  It  was 
natural  that  there  should  be  ;  therefore,  during  the 
intervening  time,  I  lost  no  opportunity  to  explain 
away  difficulties,  to  remove  doubts,  to  dispel  fears, 
and  to  inspire  all  with  firmness.  It  was  too  late  to 
look  back;  and  now  was  the  time  to  go  forward. 
Like  most  other  men,  we  had  done  the  talking  part 


APPEALS    TO  COMRADES.  289 

of  our  work,  long  and  well ;  and  the  time  had  come 
to  act  as  if  we  were  in  earnest,  and  meant  to  be  as 
true  in  action  as  in  words.  I  did  not  forget  to  appeal 
to  the  pride  of  my  comrades,  by  telling  them  that,  if 
after  having  solemnly  promised  to  go,  as  they  had 
done,  they  now  failed  to  make  the  attempt,  they  would, 
in  eflect,  brand  themselves  with  cowardice,  and  might 
as  well  sit  down,  fold  their  arms,  and  acknowledge 
themselves  as  fit  onlv  to  be  slaves.  This  detestable 
character,  all  were  unwilling  to  assume.  Every  man 
except  Sandy  (he,  much  to  our  regret,  withdrew)  stood 
firm ;  and  at  our  last  meeting  we  pledged  ourselves 
afresh,  and  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  that,  at  the 
time  appointed,  we  icoulcl  certainly  start  on  our  long 
journey  for  a  free  country.  This  meeting  was  in  the 
middle  of  the  week,  at  the  end  of  which  we  were  to  start. 
Early  that  morning  we  went,  as  usual,  to  the  field, 
but  with  hearts  that  beat  quickly  and  anxiously. 
Any  one  intimately  acquainted  with  us,  might  have 
seen  that  all  was  not  well  with  us,  and  that  some  mon- 
ster lingered  in  our  thoughts.  Our  work  that  morn- 
ing was  the  same  as  it  had  been  for  several  days  past — 
drawing  out  and  spreading  manure.  While  thus  en- 
gaged, I  had  a  sudden  presentiment,  which  flashed  upon 
me  like  lightning  in  a  din-k  night,  revealing  to  the 
lonely  traveler  the  gulf  before,  and  the  enemy  be- 
hind. I  instantly  turned  to  Sandy  Jenkins,  who  was 
near  me,  and  said  to  him,  "  Sandy ^  we  are  hetrayed  j 
soniething  has  just  told  me  so."  I  felt  as  sure  of  it, 
as  if  the  officers  were  there  in  sight.  Sandy  said, 
"  Man,  dat  is  strange  ;  but  I  feel  just  as  you  do."  If 
my  mother — then  long  in  her  grave — had  appeared 
M  19 


290  LIFE   AS   A   SLAVE. 

before  me,  and  told   me  that  we  were  betrayed,  I 
could  not,  at  that  moment,  have  felt  more  certain  of 

the  fact. 

In  a  few  minutes  after  this,  the  long,  low  and  dis- 
tant notes  of  the  horn  summoned  us  from  the  field  to 
breakfast.  I  felt  as  one  may  be  supposed  to  feel  be 
fore  being  led  forth  to  be  executed  for  some  great  of- 
fense. I  wanted  no  breakfast ;  but  I  went  with  the 
other  slaves  toward  the  house,  for  form's  sake.  My 
feelings  were  not  disturbed  as  to  the  right  of  running 
away  ;  on  that  point  I  had  no  trouble,  whatever.  My 
anxiety  arose  from  a  sense  of  the  consequences  cf 
failure. 

In  thirty  minutes  after  that  vivid  presentiment, 
came  the  apprehended  crash.  On  reaching  the  house, 
for  breakfast,  and  glancing  my  eye  toward  the  lane 
gate,  the  worst  was  at  once  made  known.  The  lane 
gate  of  Mr.  Freeland's  house,  is  nearly  a  half  a  mile 
from  the  door,  and  much  shaded  by  the  heavy  wood 
which  bordered  the  main  road.  I  was,  however,  able 
to  descry  four  white  men,  and  two  colored  men,  ap- 
proaching. The  white  men  v/ere  on  horseback,  and 
the  colored  men  were  walking  behind,  and  seemed  to 
be  tied.  "  It  is  all  over  with  ns,^^  thought  I,  "  we  are 
siii'ely  hetrayedy  I  now  became  com|)osed,  or  at 
least  comparatively  so,  and  calmly  awaited  the  re- 
sult. I  watched  the  ill-omened  company,  till  I  saw 
them  enter  the  gate.  Successful  flight  was  impossi- 
ble, and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  stand,  and  meet  the 
evil,  whatever  it  might  be ;  for  I  was  now  not  with- 
out a  slight  hope  that  things  might  turn  differently 
from  what  I  at  first  expected.     In  a  few  moments,  in 


THE  MANNER  OF  AERESTINC'-  US.  291 

came  Mr.  William  Hamilton,  riding  very  rapidly, 
and  evidently  much  excited.  He  was  in  the  habit 
of  riding  very  slowly,  and  was  seldom  known  to 
gallop  his  horse.  This  time,  his  horse  was  nearly  at 
full  speed,  causing  the  dust  to  roll  thick  behind  him. 
Mr.  Hamilton,  though  one  of  the  most  resolute  men 
in  the  whole  neighborhood,  vras,  nevertheless,  a  re- 
markably mild  spoken  man ;  and,  even  when  greatly 
excited,  his  language  was  cool  and  circumspect.  He 
came  to  the  door,  and  inquired  if  Mr.  Freeland  was 
in.  I  told  him  that  Mr.  Freeland  w^as  at  the  barn. 
Off  the  old  gentleman  rode,  toward  the  barn,  wdth  un- 
wonted speed.  Mary,  the  cook,  was  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  was  the  matter,  and  I  did  not  profess  any  skill 
in  making  her  understand.  I  knew  she  would  have 
united,  as  readily  as  any  one,  in  cursing  me  for  bring- 
ing trouble  into  the  family  ;  so  I  held  my  peace,  leav- 
ing matters  to  develop  themselves,  without  my  assist- 
ance. In  a  few  moments,  Mr.  Hamilton  and  Mr. 
Freeland  came  down  from  the  barn  to  the  house ;  and, 
just  as  they  made  their  appearance  in  the  front  yard, 
three  men  (who  proved  to  be  constables)  came  dash- 
ing into  the  lane,  on  horseback,  as  if  summoned  by  a 
sign  requiring  quick  work.  A  few  seconds  brought 
them  into  the  front  yard,  where  they  hastily  dismount- 
ed, and  tied  their  horses.  This  done,  they  joined  Mr. 
Freeland  and  Mr.  Hamilton,  who  were  standing  a 
short  distance  from  the  kitchen.  A  few  moments 
were  spent,  as  if  in  consulting  how  to  proceed,  and 
then  the  whole  party  walked  up  to  the  kitchen  door, 
Tiiere  was  now  no  one  in  the  kitchen  but  mj^self  and 
Joan  Harris.    Henry  and  Sandy  were  yet  at  the  barn. 


292  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

Mr.  Freeland  came  inside  the  kitchen  door,  and  with 
an  agitated  voice,  called  me  by  name,  and  told  me  to 
come  forward ;  that  there  were  some  gentlemen  who 
wished  to  see  me.  I  stepped  toward  them,  at  the 
door,  and  asked  what  they  wanted,  when  the  consta- 
bles grabbed  me,  and  told  me  that  I  had  better  not 
resist ;  that  I  had  been  in  a  scrape,  or  was  said  to  have 
been  in  one  ;  that  they  were  merely  going  to  take  me 
where  I  could  be  examined ;  that  they  were  going  to 
carry  me  to  St.  Michael's,  to  have  me  brought  before 
my  master.  They  further  said,  that,  in  case  the  evi- 
dence against  me  was  not  true,  I  should  be  acquitted. 
I  was  now  firmly  tied,  and  completely  at  the  mercy 
of  my  captors.  Resistance  was  idle.  They  were  five 
in  number,  armed  to  the  very  teeth.  When  they  had 
secured  me,  they  next  turned  to  John  Harris,  and,  in 
a  few  moments,  succeeded  in  tying  him  as  firmly  as 
they  had  already  tied  me.  They  next  turned  toward 
Henry  Harris,  who  had  now  returned  from  the  barn. 
"  Cross  your  hands,"  said  the  constables,  to  Henry. 
"  I  won't "  said  Henry,  in  a  voice  so  firm  and  clear, 
and  in  a  manner  so  determined,  as  for  a  moment  to 
arrest  all  proceedings.  "  Won't  you  cross  your  hands  ? " 
said  Tom  Graham,  the  constable.  "  jS^o  I  woiiH^^"^ 
said  Henry,  with  increasing  emphasis.  Mr.  Hamil- 
ton, Mr.  Freeland,  and  the  ofiicers,  now  came  near  to 
Henry.  Two  of  the  constables  drew  out  their  shi- 
ning pistols,  and  swore  by  the  name  of  God,  that  he 
should  cross  his  hands,  or  they  would  shoot  him  down. 
Each  of  these  hired  rufiians  now  cocked  their  pistols, 
and,  with  fingers  apparently  on  the  triggers,  presen- 
ted their  deadly  weapons  to  the  breast  of  the  unarmed 


RESIST AKCE    MADE   BY  HENRY  HARRIS.  293 

slave,  saying,  at  the  same  time,  if  he  did  not  cross  his 
hands,  they  would  "  blow  his  d — d  heart  ont  of  him." 
"  Shoot  !  shoot  me  !  "  said  Henry.  ''  Yoio  canH 
hill  7)ie  hut  once.  Shoot ! — 'shoot !  and  be  d — d.  I 
worCt  he  tied?^  This,  the  brave  fellow  said  in  a  voice 
as  defiant  and  heroic  in  its  "tone,  as  w^as  the  lano;ua<re 
itself;  and,  at  the  moment -of  saying  this,  with  the 
pistols  at  his  very  breast,  he  quickly  raised  his  arms, 
and  dashed  them  from  the  puny  hands  of  his  assassins, 
the  weapons  flying  in  opposite  directions.  E'ow  came 
the  struggle.  All  hands  now  rushed  upon  the  brave 
fellow,  and,  after  beating  him  for  some  time,  they 
succeeded  in  overpowering  and  tying  him.  Henry 
put  me  to  shame  ;  he  fought,  and  fought  bravely. 
John  and  I  had  made  no  resistance.  The  fact  is,  1 
never  see  much  use  in  fighting,  unless  there  is  a  rea- 
sonable jDi-obability  of  whipping  somebody.  Yet 
there  was  something  almost  providential  in  the  resist- 
ance made  by  the  gallant  Henry.  But  for  that  re- 
sistance, every  soul  of  us  would  have  been  hurried  off 
to  the  far  south.  Just  a  moment  previous  to  the 
trouble  with  Henry,  Mr.  Hamilton  mildly  said — and 
this  gave  me  the  unmistakable  clue  to  the  cause  of 
our  arrest  —  "  Perhaps  we  had  now  better  make  a 
search  for  those  protections,  which  we  understand 
Frederick  has  written  for  himself  and  the  rest."  Had 
these  passes  been  found,  they  would  have  been  point 
blank  proof  against  us,  and  would  have  confirmed  all 
the  statements  of  our  betrayer.  Thanks  to  the  resist- 
ance of  Henry,  the  excitement  produced  by  the 
scuflie  drew  all  attention  in  that  direction,  and  I  suc- 
ceeded in  flinging  my  pass,  unobserved,  into  the  fire. 


•    294:  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

The  confusion  attendant  upon  the  scuffle,  and  the  ap- 
prehension of  further  trouble,  perhaps,  led  onr  cap- 
tors to  forego,  for  the  present,  any  search  for  "  those 
protectio7is  "  which  Frederick  was  said  to  have  written 
for  his  companions;  so  we  were  not  jet  convicted 
of  the  purpose  to  run  away  ;  and  it  was  evident  that 
there  was  some  doubt,  on  the  part  of  all,  whether  we 
had  been  guilty  of  such  a  purpose. 

Just  as  we  were  all  completely  tied,  and  about 
ready  to  start  toward  St.  Michael's,  and  thence  to  jail, 
Mrs.  Betsey  Freeland  (mother  to  AVilliam,  who  was 
very  much  attached — after  the  southern  fashion — to 
Henry  and  John,  they  having  been  reared  from  child- 
hood in  her  house)  came  to  the  kitchen  door,  with 
her  hands  full  of  biscuits, — for  we  had  not  had  time 
to  take  our  breakfast  that  morning — and  divided  them 
between  Henry  and  John.  This  done,  the  lady  made 
the  following  parting  address  to  me,  looking  and 
pointing  her  bony  finger  at  me.  "  You  devil !  you 
yellow  devil!  It  was  you  that  put  it  into  the 
heads  of  Henry  and  John  to  run  away.  But  for 
you^  you  long  legged  yelloiv  devil^  Henry  and  John 
would  never  have  thought  of  running  away."  I  gave 
the  lady  a  look,  which  called  forth  a  scream  of 
mingled  wrath  and  terror,  as  she  slammed  the 
kitchen  door,  and  went  in,  leaving  me,  with  the  rest, 
in  hands  as  harsh  as  her  own  broken  voice. 

Could    tlie  kind  reader  have  been  quietly  riding 

along  the  main  road  to  or  from  Easton,  that  morning, 

his  eye  would  have  met  a  painful  sight.     He  would 

/^  have  seen  five  young  men,  guilty  of  no  crime,  save 

that  of  preferring  liberty  to  a  life  of  hondage,  drawn 


BRUTAL  JEERS  BY  THE  MULTITUDE.  295 

along  the  public  highway — firmly  bound  together — • 
tramping  through  dust  and  heat,  bare-footed  and  bare- 
headed— fastened  to  three  strong  horses,  whose  riders 
were  armed  to  the  teeth,  with  pistols  and  daggers — 
on  their  way  to  prison,  like  felons,  and  suifering  every 
possible  insult  from  the  crowds  of  idle,  vulgar  people, 
who  clustered  around,  and  heartlessly  made  their  fail- 
ure the  occasion  for  all  manner  of  ribaldry  and  sport. 
As  I  looked  upon  this  crowd  of  vile  persons,  and  saw 
myself  and  friends  thus  assailed  and  persecuted,  I  could 
not  help  seeing  the  fulfillment  of  Sandy's  dream.  I 
was  in  the  hands  of  moral  vultures,  and  firmly  held  in 
their  sharp  talons,  and  was  being  hurried  away  to- 
ward Easton,  in  a  south-easterly  direction,  amJd  the 
jeers  of  new  birds  of  the  same  feather,  through  every 
neighborhood  we  passed.  It  seemed  to  me,  (and  this 
shows  the  good  understanding  between  the  slavehold- 
ers and  their  allies,)  that  every  body  we  met  knew  the 
cause  of  our  arrest,  and  were  out,  awaiting  our  passing 
by,  to  feast  their  vindictive  eyes  on  our  misery  and 
to  gloat  over  our  ruin.  Some  said,  I  ought  to  he  hanged, 
and  others,  I  ought  to  he  huvnt;  others,  I  ought  to 
have  the  "  hide^''  taken  from  my  back ;  while  no  one 
gave  us  a  kind  word  or  sympathizing  look,  except 
the  poor  slaves,  who  were  lifting  their  heavy  hoes, 
and  who  cautiously  glanced  at  us  through  the  post- 
and-rail  fences,  behind  which  they  were  at  work.  Our 
sufferings,  that  morning,  can  be  more  easily  imagined 
than  described.  Our  hopes  were  all  blasted,  at  a 
blow.  The  cruel  injustice,  the  victorious  crime,  and 
the  helplessness  of  innocence,  led  me  to  ask,  in  my 
ignorance  and  weakness — ''  Where  now  is  the  God 


296  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

of  justice  and  mercj?  and  why  have  these  wicked 
men  the  power  thus  to  trample  upon  our  rights,  and 
to  insult  our  feelings  ? "  And  yet,  in  the  next  moment, 
came  the  consoling  thought,  "  the  day  of  the  ojppres- 
sor  will  come  at  lastP  Of  one  thing  I  could  be  glad — 
not  one  of  my  dear  friends,  upon  whom  I  had  brought 
this  great  calamity,  either  by  word  or  look,  reproached 
me  for  having  led  them  into  it.  We  were  a  band  of 
brothers,  and  never  dearer  to  each  other  than  now. 
The  thought  which  gave  us  the  most  pain,  was  the 
probable  separation  which  would  now  take  place,  in 
case  we  were  sold  off  to  the  far  south,  as  we  v^ere  likely 
to  be.  While  the  constables  were  looking  forward,  Hen- 
ry and  I,  being  fastened  together,  could  occasionally 
exchange  a  word,  without  being  observed  by  the  kid- 
nappers who  had  us  in  charge.  "  What  shall  I  do 
with  my  pass?"  said  Henry.  "  Eat  it  with  your  bis- 
cuit," said  I ;  "it  won't  do  to  tear  it  up."  We  were 
now  near  St.  Michael's.  The  direction  concerning 
the  passes  was  passed  around,  and  executed.  "  Own 
nothing  I "  said  I.  "  Oimi  nothing  I  "  was  passed 
around  and  enjoined,  and  assented  to.  Our  confidence 
in  each  other  was  unshaken  ;  and  we  were  quite  re- 
solved to  succeed  or  fail  together — as  much  after  the 
calamity  which  had  befallen  us,  as  before. 

On  reaching  St.  Michael's,  we  underwent  a  sort  of 
examination  at  my  master's  store,  and  it  was  evident 
to  my  mind,  that  Master  Thomas  suspected  the  truth- 
fulness of  the  evidence  upon  which  they  had  acted  in 
arresting  us ;  and  that  he  only  affected,  to  some  ex- 
tent, the  positiveness  with  which  he  asserted  our  guilt. 
There  was  nothing  said  by  any  of  our  company,  which 


THE  DENIAL.  297 

could,  iu  any  manner,  prejudice  our  cause  ;  and  there 
was  hope,  yet,  that  we  should  be  able  to  return  to  our 
homes — if  for  nothing  else,  at  least  to  find  out  the 
guilty  man  or  woman  who  had  betrayed  us. 

To  this  end,  we  all  denied  that  we  had  been  guilty 
of  intended  flight.  Master  Thomas  said  that  the  evi- 
dence he  had  of  our  intention  to  run  away,  was  strong 
enough  to  hang  us,  in  a  case  of  murder.  "  But,"  said 
I,  "  the  cases  are  not  equal.  If  murder  were  com- 
mitted, some  one  must  have  committed  it — the  thing 
is  done  !  In  our  case,  nothing  has  been  done!  We 
have  not  run.  away.  Where  is  the  evidence  against 
us  ?  We  were  quietly  at  our  work."  I  talked  thus, 
with  unusual  freedom,  to  bring  out  the  evidence 
against  us,  for  we  all  wanted,  above  all  things,  to  know 
the  guilty  wretch  who  had  betrayed  us,  that  we  might 
have  something  tangible  upon  which  to  pour  our  exe- 
crations. From  something  which  dropped,  in  the 
course  of  the  talk,  it  appeared  that  there  was  but  one 
witness  against  us — and  that  that  witness  could  not 
be  produced.  Master  Thomas  w^ould  not  tell  us  who 
his  informant  was ;  but  we  suspected,  and  suspected 
one  person  only.  Several  circumstances  seemed  to 
point  Sandy  out,  as  our  betrayer.  His  entire  know- 
ledge of  our  plans — his  participation  in  them — his 
withdrawal  from  us — his  dream,  and  his  simultaneous 
presentiment  that  we  vrere  betrayed — the  taking  us, 
and  the  leaving  him — were  calculated  to  turn  suspi- 
cion toward  him ;  and  yet,  we  could  not  suspect  him. 
We  all  loved  him  too  wxll  to  think  it  possible  that  he 
could  have  betrayed  us.  So  we  rolled  the  guilt  on 
other  shoulders. 
M* 


298  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

We  were  literally  dragged,  that  morning,  beliind 
horses,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  and  placed  in  the 
Easton  jail.  We  were  glad  to  reach  the  end  of  our 
journey,  for  our  pathway  had  been  the  scene  of  in- 
sult and  mortification.  Such  is  the  power  of  public 
opinion,  that  it  is  hard,  even  for  the  innocent,  to  feel 
the  happy  consolations  of  innocence,  when  they  fall 
under  the  maledictions  of  this  power.  How  could  we 
regard  ourselves  as  in  the  right,  when  all  about  us 
denounced  us  as  criminals,  and  had  the  power  and  the 
disposition  to  treat  us  as  such. 

In  jail,  we  were  placed  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Jo- 
seph Graham,  the  sherift"  of  the  county.  Henry,  and 
John,  and  myself,  were  placed  in  one  room,  and  Hen- 
ry Baily  and  Charles  Roberts,  in  another,  by  them- 
selves. This  separation  was  intended  to  deprive  us 
of  the  advantage  of  concert,  and  to  prevent  trouble  in 
jail. 

Once  shut  up,  a  new  set  of  tormentors  came  upon 
us.  A  swarm  of  imps,  in  human  shape — the  slave- 
traders,  deputy  slave-traders,  and  agents  of  slave- 
traders — that  gather  in  every  country  town  of  the 
state,  watching  for  chances  to  buy  human  flesh,  (as 
buzzards  to  eat  carrion,)  flocked  in  upon  us,  to  ascer- 
tain if  our  masters  had  placed  us  in  jail  to  be  sold. 
Such  a  set  of  debased  and  villainous  creatures,  I  nev- 
er saw  before,  and  hope  never  to  see  again.  I  felt 
myself  surrounded  as  by  a  pack  oi  fiends^  fresh  from 
perdition.  They  laughed,  leered,  and  grinned  at  us  ; 
saying,  "Ah!  boys,  we've  got  you,  havn't  we  ?  So 
you  were  about  to  make  your  escape?  Where  were 
you  going  to  ?"     After  taunting  us,  and  jeering  at  us, 


SLAVE-TEADERS.  299 

as  long  as  tliey  liked,  they  one  by  one  subjected  us 
to  an  examination,  with  a  view  to  ascertain  our  value ; 
feeling  our  arms  and  legs,  and  shaking  us  by  tlie 
shoulders  to  see  if  we  were  sound  and  healthy  ;  im- 
pudently asking  us,  ''  how  we  would  like  to  have  them 
for  masters  ? "  To  such  questions,  we  were,  very  . 
much  to  their  annoyance,  quite  dumb,  disdaining  to 
answer  them.  For  one,  I  detested  the  whisky-bloated 
gamblers  in  human  flesh  ;  and  I  believe  I  was  as  much 
detested  by  them  in  turn.  One  fellow  told  me,  "  if 
he  had  me,  he  would  cut  the  devil  out  of  me  pretty 
quick." 

These   negro  buyers  are  very  offensive  to  the  gen- 
teel southron  christian  public.     They  are  looked  upon, 
in   respectable   Maryland    society,  as  necessary,  but 
detestable  characters.     As  a  class,  they  are  hardened^ 
ruffians,    made   such   by  nature   and  by  occupation. 
Their  ears  are  made  quite  familiar  with  the  agonizing 
cry  of  outraged  and  woe-smitten  humanity.  Their  eyes 
are  forever  open  to  human  misery.     They  walk  amid 
desecrated   affections,   insulted    virtue,    and    blasted 
hopes.     They   have  grown   intimate  with  vice   and  > 
blood;  they  gloat  over   the  wildest  illustrations   of\ 
their  soul-damning  and  earth-polluting  business,  and  I 
are  moral  pests.     Yes  ;  they  are  a  legitimate  fruit  of/ 
slavery  ;  and  it  is  a  puzzle  to  make  out  a  case  of  great- 
er villainy  for   them,  than   for  the  slaveholders,  who 
make  such  a  class  ^^ossible.     They  are  mere  hucksters 
of  the  surplus  slave  produce  of  Maryland  and  Vir- 
ginia— coarse,  cruel,  and  swaggering  bullies,  whose 
very  breathing  is  of  blasphemy  and  blood. 

Aside  from   these   slave-buyers,  who  infested  the 


300  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

prison,  from  time  to  time,  our  quarters  were  much 
more  comfortable  than  we  had  any  right  to  expect 
they  would  be.  Our  allowance  of  food  was  small  and 
coarse,  but  our  room  was  the  best  in  the  jail — neat 
and  spacious,  and  with  nothing  about  it  necessarily 
reminding  us  of  being  in  prison,  but  its  heavy  locks 
and  bolts  and  the  black,  iron  lattice- work  at  the  win- 
dows. ^Ye  were  prisoners  of  state,  compared  with 
most  slaves  who  are  put  into  that  Easton  jail.  But 
the  place  was  not  one  of  contentment.  Bolts,  bars 
and  grated  windows  are  not  acceptable  to  freedom- 
loving  people  of  any  color.  The  suspense,  too,  was 
painful.  Every  step  on  the  stairway  was  listened  to, 
in  the  hope  that  the  comer  would  cast  a  ray  of  light 
on  our  fate.  We  would  have  given  the  hair  off  our 
heads  for  half  a  dozen  words  with  one  of  the  waiters 
in  Sol.  Lowe's  hotel.  Such  waiters  were  in  the  way 
of  hearing,  at  the  table,  the  probable  course  of  things. 
"We  could  see  them  flitting  about  in  their  white  jack- 
ets, in  front  of  this  hotel,  but  could  speak  to  none 
of  them. 

Soon  after  the  holidays  were  over,  contrary  to  all 
our  expectations,  Messrs.  Hamilton  and  Freeland  came 
up  to  Easton  ;  not  to  make  a  bargain  with  the  "  Geor- 
gia traders,"  nor  to  send  us  up  to  Austin  Woldfolk, 
as  is  usual  in  the  case  of  run-away  slaves,  but  to  re- 
lease Charles,  Henry  Harris,  Henry  Baily  and  John 
Harris,  from  prison,  and  this,  too,  without  the  inflic- 
tion of  a  single  blow.  I  was  now  left  entirely  alone 
in  prison.  The  innocent  had  been  taken,  and  the 
guilty  left.  My  friends  were  separated  from  me,  and 
apparently  forever.      This  circumstance   caused  me 


THE  AUTHOK  LEFT  ALONE  IN  PItlSON.  301 

more  pain  than  any  other  incident  connected  with  our 
capture  and  imprisonment.  Thirty-nine  lashes  on  my 
naked  and  bleeding  back,  would  have  been  joyfully 
borne,  in  preference  to  this  separation  from  these,  the 
friends  of  my  youth.  And  yet,  I  could  not  but  feel 
that  I  was  the  victim  of  something  like  justice.  Why 
should  these  young  men,  who  were  led  into  this  scheme 
by  me,  sufier  as  much  as  the  instigator  ?  I  felt  glad 
that  they  were  released  from  prison,  and  from  the 
dread  prospect  of  a  life  (or  death  I  should  rather  say) 
in  the  rice  swamps.  It  is  due  to  the  noble  Henry,  to 
say,  that  he  seemed  almost  as  reluctant  to  leave  the 
prison  with  me  in  it,  as  he  was  to  be  tied  and  dragged 
to  prison.  But  he  and  the  rest  knew  that  we  should, 
in  all  the  likelihoods  of  the  case,  be  separated,  in  the 
event  of  being  sold  ;  and  since  we  were  now  complete- 
ly in  the  hands  of  our  owners,  we  all  concluded  it 
would  be  best  to  go  peaceably  home. 

]^ot  until  this  last  separation,  dear  reader,  had  I 
touched  those  profounder  depths  of  desolation,  which 
it  is  the  lot  of  slaves  often  to  reach.  I  was  solitary 
in  the  world,  and  alone  within  the  walls  of  a  stone 
prison,  left  to  a  fate  of  life-long  misery.  I  had  hoped 
and  expected  much,  for  months  before,  but  my  hopes 
and  expectations  were  now  withered  and  blasted. 
The  ever  dreaded  slave  life  in  Georgia,  Louisiana  and 
Alabama — from  which  escape  is  next  to  impossible — 
now,  in  my  loneliness,  stared  me  in  the  face.  The 
possibility  of  ever  becoming  anything  but  an  abject 
slave,  a  mere  machine  in  the  hands  of  an  owner,  had 
now  fled,  and  it  seemed  to  me  it  had  fled  forever.  A 
life  of   living   death,   beset   with    the   innumerable 


302  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

horrors  of  the  cotton  field,  and  the  sugar  plantation, 
seemed  to  be  my  doom.  The  fiends,  who  rushed  into 
the  prison  when  we  were  first  put  there,  continued  to 
visit  me,  and  to  ply  me  with  questions  and  with  their 
tantalizing  remarks.  I  was  insulted,  but  helpless ; 
keenly  alive  to  the  demands  of  justice  and  liberty, 
but  with  no  means  of  asserting  them.  To  talk  to 
those  imps  about  justice  and  mercy,  would  have  been 
as  absurd  as  to  reason  with  bears  and  tigers.  Lead 
and  steel  are  the  only  arguments  that  they  under- 
stand. 

After  remaining  in  this  life  of  misery  and  despair 
about  a  week,  which,  by  the  way,  seemed  a  month. 
Master  Thomas,  very  much  to  my  surprise,  and  greatly 
to  my  relief,  came  to  the  prison,  and  took  me  out,  for 
the  purpose,  as  he  said,  of  sending  me  to  Alabama, 
with  a  friend  of  his,  who  would  emancipate  me  at  tne 
end  of  eight  years.  I  was  glad  enough  to  get  out  of 
prison  ;  but  I  had  no  faith  in  the  story  that  this  friend 
of  Capt.  Auld  would  emancipate  me,  at  the  end  of 
the  time  indicated.  Besides,  I  never  had  heard  of  his 
having  a  friend  in  Alabama,  and  I  took  the  announce- 
ment, simply  as  an  easy  and  comfortable  method  of 
shipping  me  off  to  the  far  south.  There  was  a  little 
scandal,  too,  connected  with  the  idea  of  one  christian 
selling  another  to  the  Georgia  traders,  while  it  was 
deemed  every  way  proper  for  them  to  sell  to  others.  I 
thought  this  friend  in  Alabama  was  an  invention,  to 
meet  this  difliculty,  for  Master  Thomas  was  quite  jeal- 
ous of  his  christian  reputation,  however  unconcerned 
he  might  be  about  his  real  christian  character.  In 
these  remarks,  however,  it  is  possible  that  I  do  Mas- 


TAKEN  OUT,    AND  SENT  TO  BALTDHOEE.  303 

ter  Thomas  AtiIcI  injustice.  He  certainly  did  not  ex- 
haust his  power  upon  me,  in  the  case,  but  acted,  upon 
the  whole,  very  generously,  considering  the  nature 
of  my  offense.  He  had  the  power  and  the  provoca- 
tion to  send  me,  without  reserve,  into  the  very  ever- 
glades of  Florida,  beyond  the  remotest  hope  of  eman- 
cipation ;  and  his  refusal  to  exercise  that  power,  must 
be  set  down  to  his  credit. 

After  lingering  about  St.  Michael's  a  few  c'ciys,  and 
no  friend  from  Alabama  making  his  appearance,  to 
take  me  there.  Master  Thomas  decided  to  send 
me  back  again  to  Baltimore,  to  live  with  his  brother 
Hugh,  with  whom  he  was  now  at  peace  ;  possibly  he 
became  so  by  his  profession  of  religion,  at  the  camp- 
meeting  in  the  Bay  Side.  Master  Thomas  told  me 
that  he  wished  me  to  go  to  Baltimore,  and  learn  a 
trade ;  and  that,  if  I  behaved  myself  properly,  he 
would  emancii)ate  me  at  twenty-five  !  Thanks  for  this 
one  beam  of  hope  in  the  future.  The  promise  had 
but  one  fault ;  it  seemed  too  good  to  be  true. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

\ 

APPRENTICESHIP  LIFE. 

NOTHING     LOST    BY    THE    ATTEMPT  TO    RUN    AWAY COMRADES  IN  THEIR    OLD 

HOMES REASONS  FOR  SENDING  AUTHOR  AWAY RETURN  TO  BALTIMORE 

CONTRAST  BETWEEN  "  TOMMY  "  AND  THAT    OF  HIS  COLORED    COMPANION 

TRIALS  IN  Gardiner's  ship  yard — desperate  fight — its  causes — con- 
flict BETWEEN  WHITE  AND  BLACK  LABOR DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  OUTRAGE 

COLORED    TESTIMONY    NOTHING CONDUCT  OF   MASTER  HUGH SPIRIT  OF 

SLAVERY  IN    BALTIMORE AUTHOr's  CONDITION  IMPROVES NEW  ASSOCIA- 
TIONS  slaveholders'    RIGHT    TO     TAKE    HIS    WAGES HOW    TO    MAKE  A 

CONTENTED  SLAVE, 

Well  !  dear  reader,  I  am  not,  as  you  may  have  al- 
ready inferred,  a  loser  by  the  general  upstir,  described 
in  the  foregoing  chapter.  The  little  domestic  revolu- 
tion, notwithstanding  the  sudden  snub  it  got  by  the 
treachery  of  somebody — I  dare  not  say  or  think  vjho — ■ 
did  not,  after  all,  end  so  disastrously,  as,  when  in  the 
iron  cage  at  Easton,  I  conceived  it  would.  The  pros- 
pect, from  that  point,  did  look  about  as  dark  as  any 
that  ever  cast  its  gloom  over  the  vision  of  the  anxious, 
out-looking,  human  spirit.  "All  is  well  that  ends 
well."  My  affectionate  comrades,  Henry  and  John 
Harris,  are  still  with  Mr.  William  Freeland.  Charles 
Eoberts  and  Henry  Baily  are  safe  at  their  homes. 
I  have  not,  therefore,  any  thing  to  regret  on  their  ac- 
count. Their  masters  have  mercifully  forgiven  them, 
probably  on  the  ground  suggested  in  the  spirited  little 
speech  of  Mrs.  Freeland,  made  to  me  just  before  leav- 


REASONS  FOE  SENDING  AUTHOR  AWAY.       305 

ing  for  the  jail — namely  :  that  thej  had  been  allured 
into  the  wicked  scheme  of  making  their  escape,  by 
me;  and  that,  but  for  me,  they  would  never  have 
dreamed  of  a  thing  so  shocking !  My  friends  had 
nothing  to  regret,  either ;  for  while  they  were  watched 
more  closely  on  account  of  what  had  hapjjened,  they 
were,  doubtless,  treated  more  kindly  than  before,  and 
got  new  assurances  that  they  would  be  legally  eman- 
cipated, some  day,  provided  their  behavior  should 
make  them  deserving,  from  that  time  forward,  l^ot 
a  blow,  as  I  learned,  was  struck  any  one  of  them.  As 
for  Master  William  Freeland,  good,  unsuspecting  soul, 
he  did  not  believe  that  w^e  were  intending  to  run 
away  at  all.  Having  given — as  he  thought — no  oc- 
casion to  his  boys  to  leave  him,  he  could  not  think 
it  probable  that  they  had  entertained  a  design  so 
grievous.  This,  however,  was  not  the  view  taken  of 
the  matter  by  "  Mas'  Billy,"  as  we  used  to  call  the 
soft  spoken,  but  crafty  and  resolute  Mr.  William 
Hamilton.  He  had  no  doubt  that  the  crime  had  been 
meditated ;  and  regarding  me  as  the  instigator  of  it, 
he  frankly  told  Master  Thomas  that  he  must  remove 
me  from  that  neighborhood,  or  he  would  shoot  me 
down.  He  would  not  have  one  so  dangerous  as 
"  Frederick "  tampering  with  his  slaves.  William 
Hamilton  was  not  a  man  whose  threat  might  be  safe- 
ly disregarded.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  would  have 
proved  as  good  as  his  word,  had  the  warning  given 
not  been  promptly  taken.  He  was  furious  at  the 
thought  of  such  a  piece  of  high-handed  theft^  as  we 
were  about  to  perpetrate — the  stealing  of  our  own  bo- 
dies  and   souls !      The   feasibility  of  the  plan,  too, 

20 


806  LIFE  AS   A  SLAVE. 

could  the  first  steps  have  been  taken,  was  marvelcmslj 
plain.  Besides,  this  was  a  oiew  idea,  this  use  of  the 
bay.  Slaves  escaping,  until  now,  had  taken  to  the 
woods ;  they  had  never  dreamed  of  profaning  and 
abusing  the  watere  of  the  noble  Chesapeake,  by  ma- 
king them  the  highway  from  slavery  to  freedom. 
Here  was  a  broad  road  of  destruction  to  slavery,  which, 
before,  had  been  looked  upon  as  a  wall  of  security  by 
slaveholders.  But  Master  Billy  could  not  get  Mr.  Free- 
land  to  see  matters  precisely  as  he  did  ;  nor  could  he 
get  Master  Thomas  so  excited  as  he  was  himself.  The 
latter — I  must  say  it  to  his  credit — showed  much  hu- 
mane feeling  in  his  part  of  the  transaction,  and  atoned 
for  much  that  had  been  harsh,  cruel  and  unreason- 
able in  his  former  treatment  of  me  and  others.  His 
clemency  was  quite  unusual  and  unlooked  for.  "  Cous- 
in Tom  "  told  me  that  while  I  was  in  jail,  Master 
Thomas  was  very  unhappy  ;  and  that  the  night  before 
his  going  up  to  release  me,  he  had  walked  the  floor 
nearly  all  night,  evincing  great  distress  ;  that  very 
tempting  ofiers  had  been  made  to  him,  by  the  negro- 
traders,  but  he  had  rejected  them  all,  saying  that 
tnoney  could  not  temjyt  hira  to  sell  me  to  the  far  south. 
All  this  I  can  easily  believe,  for  he  seemed  quite  re- 
luctant to  send  me  away,  at  alL  He  told  me  that  he 
only  consented  to  do  so,  because  of  the  very  strong 
ptrejudice  against  me  in  the  neighborhood,  and  that  he 
feared  for  my  safety  if  I  remained  there. 

Thus,  after  three  years  spent  in  the  country,  rough- 
ing it  in  the  field,  and  experiencing  all  sorts  of  hard- 
ships, I  was  again  permitted  to  return  to  Baltimore,  the 
very  place,  of  all  others,  shor^  of  a  free  state,  where  1 


CHANGE  IN  "LITTLE  TOMMY.  807 

most  desired  to  live.  The  three  years  spent  in  the  coun- 
try, had  made  some  difference  in  me,  and  in  the  house- 
hold of  Master  Hugh.  "  Little  Tommy  "  was  no  lon- 
ger little  Tommy ;  and  I  was  not  the  slender  lad  who 
had  left  for  the  Eastern  Shore  just  three  years  before. 
The  loving  relations  betw^een  me  and  Mas'  Tommy 
were  broken  up.  He  was  no  longer  dependent  on  me 
for  protection,  but  felt  himself  a  inan^  with  other  and 
more  suitable  associates.  In  childhood,  he  scarcely 
considered  me  inferior  to  himself — certainly,  as  good  as 
any  other  boy  with  whom  he  played ;  but  the  time 
had  come  wdien  \\h  friend  must  become  his  slave.  So 
we  were  cold,  and  v^e  parted.  It  was  a  sad  thing  to 
me,  that,  loving  each  other  as  we  had  done,  we  must 
now  take  different  roads.  To  him,  a  thousand  ave- 
nues were  open.  Education  had  made  him  acquainted 
with  all  the  treasures  of  the  world,  and  liberty  had 
flung  open  the  gates  thereunto  ;  but  I,  who  had  attend- 
ed him  seven  years,  and  had  watched  over  him  with 
the  care  of  a  big  brother,  fighting  his  battles  in  the 
street,  and  shielding  him  from  harm,  to  an  extent 
which  had  induced  his  mother  to  say,  "  Oh  !  Tommy 
is  always  safe,  when  he  is  with  Freddy,"  must  be  con- 
fined to  a  single  condition.  He  could  grow,  and  be- 
come a  MAN  ;  I  could  grow,  though  I  could  not  become 
a  man,  but  must  remain,  all  my  life,  a  minor — a  mere 
boy.  Thomas  Auld,  junior,  obtained  a  situation  on 
board  the  brig  Tweed,  and  went  to  sea.  I  know  not 
what  has  become  of  him ;  he  certainly  has  my  good 
wishes  for  his  welfare  and  prosperity.  There  were 
few  persons  to  whom  I  was  more  sincerely  attached 


308  LIP^E   AS  A  SLAVE. 

than  to  him,  and  there  are  few  in  the  world  I  would 
be  more  pleased  to  meet. 

Yery  soon  after  I  went  to  Baltimore  to  live,  Master 
Hugh  succeeded  in  getting  me  hired  to  Mr.  William 
Gardiner,  an  extensive  ship  builder  on  Fell's  Point.  I 
was  placed  here  to  learn  to  calk,  a  trade  of  which  I 
already  had  some  knowledge,  gained  while  in  Mr 
Hugh  Auld's  ship-yard,  when  he  was  a  master  build- 
er. Gardiner's,  however,  proved  a  very  unfavorable 
place  for  the  accomplishment  of  that  object.  Mr. 
Gardiner  was,  that  season,  engaged  in  building  two 
large  man-of-war  vessels,  professedly  for  the  Mexican 
government.  These  vessels  were  to  be  launched  in 
the  month  of  July,  of  that  year,  and,  in  failure  there- 
of, Mr.  G.  would  forfeit  a  very  considerable  sum  of 
money.  So,  when  I  entered  the  ship-yard,  all  was 
hurry  and  driving.  There  were  in  the  yard  about 
one  hundred  men ;  of  these  about  seventy  or  eighty 
were  regular  carpenters — privileged  men.  Speaking 
of  my  condition  here,  I  wrote,  years  ago — and  I  have 
now  no  reason  to  vary  the  picture — as  follows : 

"  There  was  no  time  to  learn  any  thing.  Every  man  had  to 
do  that  which  he  knew  how  to  do.  In  entering  the  ship-yard, 
my  orders  from  Mr.  Gardiner  were,  to  do  whatever  the  car- 
penters commanded  me  to  do.  This  w^as  placing  me  at  the 
beck  and  call  of  about  seventy -five  men.  I  was  to  regard  all 
these  as  masters.  Their  word  was  to  be  my  law.  My 
situation  was  a  most  trying  one.  At  times  I  needed  a  dozen 
pair  of  hands.  I  was  called  a  dozen  ways  in  the  space  of  a 
single  minute.  Three  or  four  voices  would  strike  my  ear  at 
the  same  moment.  It  was — '  Fred.,  come  help  me  to  cant  this 
timber    here." — Fred.,   come   carry    this   timber  yonder.' — 


,  DESPEKATE  FIGHT.  309 

I 

'  Fred.,  bring  that  roller  here.' — '  Fred.,  go  get  a  fresh  can  of  wa- 
ter '.— -Fred.,  come  help  saw  off  the  end  of  this  timber.' —  'Fred., 
go  quick  and  get  the  crowbar.' — 'Fred.,  hold  on  the  end  of  this 
fall.' —  'Fred.,  go  the  blacksmith's  shop,  and  get  a  new  punch.' 
—  'Hurra,  Fred.!  run  and  bring  me  a  cold  chisel.' — 'I  say,  Fred., 
bear  a  hand,  and  get  up  a  fire  as  quick  as  lightning  under  that 
steam-box.' — 'Halloo,  nigger!  come,  turn  this  grindstone.' — 
'  Come,  come  !  move,  move  !  and  boivse  this  timber  forward.' — 
'  I  say,  darkey,  blast  your  eyes,  why  don't  you  heat  up  some 
pitch  ? ' — '  Halloo  !  halloo  !  halloo  ! '  (Three  voices  at  the  same 
time.)  '  Come  here  !  —  Go  there  !  —  Hold  on  where  you  are ! 
D  —  n  you,  if  you  move,  I'll  knock  your  brains  out ! '" 

Such,  dear  reader,  is  a  glance  at  the  school  which 
was  mine,  during  the  first  eight  months  of  my  stay  at 
Baltimore.  At  the  end  of  eight  months,  Master  Hugh 
refused  longer  to  allow  me  to  remain  with  Mr.  Gardi- 
ner. The  circumstance  which  led  to  his  taking  me 
away,  was  a  brutal  outrage,  committed  upon  me  by 
the  white  apprentices  of  the  ship-yard.  The  fight 
was  a  desperate  one,  and  I  came  out  of  it  most  shock- 
ingly mangled.  I  was  cut  and  bruised  in  sundry 
places,  and  my  left  eye  was  nearly  knocked  out  of  its 
socket.  The  facts,  leading  to  this  barbarous  outrage 
upon  me,  illustrate  a  phase  of  slavery  destined  to  be- 
come an  important  element  in  the  overthrow  of  the 
slave  system,  and  I  may,  therefore  state  them  with 
some  minuteness.  That  phase  is  this  :  the  conflict  of 
slavery  with  the  interests  of  the  white  mechanics  and 
laborers  of  the  south.  In  the  country,  this  conflict  is 
not  so  apparent ;  but,  in  cities,  such  as  Baltimore, 
Richmond,  Kew  Orleans,  Mobile,  &c.,  it  is  seen  pretty 
clearly.     The  slaveholders,  with  a  craftiness  peculiar 


310  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVE. 

to  themselves,  by  encouraging  the  enmity  of  the  poor, 
laboring  white  man  against  the  blacks,  succeeds  in 
makinir  the  said  white  man  almost  as  much  a  slave  as 
the  black  slave  himself.  The  difi'erence  between  the 
white  slave,  and  the  black  slave,  is  this :  the  latter 
belongs  to  one  slaveholder,  and  the  former  belongs  to 
all  the  slaveholders,  collectively.  The  white  slave 
has  taken  from  him,  by  indirection,  what  the  bhick 
slave  has  taken  from  him,  directly,  and  without  cere- 
mony. Both  are  plundered,  and  by  the  same  plun- 
derers. The  slave  is  robbed,  by  his  master,  of  all  his 
earnings,  above  wdiat  is  required  for  his  bare  physical 
necessities ;  and  the  w^hite  man  is  robbed  by  the  slave 
system,  of  the  just  results  of  his  labor,  because  he  is 
flung  into  competition  with  a  class  of  laborers  who 
work  without  wages.  The  competition,  and  its  inju- 
rious consequences,  will,  one  day,  array  the  non- 
slaveholding  white  people  of  the  slave  states,  against 
the  slave  system,  and  make  them  the  most  efl'ective 
workers  against  the  great  evil.  At  present,  the  slave- 
holders blind  them  to  this  competition,  by  keeping 
alive  their  prejudice  against  the  slaves,  as  men — not 
against  them  as  slaves.  They  aj^peal  to  their  pride, 
often  denouncing  emancipation,  as  tending  to  place 
the  white  working  man,  on  an  equality  with  negroes, 
and,  by  this  means,  they  succeed  in  drawing  ofl'  the 
minds  of  the  poor  whites  from  the  real  fact,  that,  by 
the  rich  slave-master,  they  are  already  regarded  as 
but  a  single  remove  from  equality  with  the  slave. 
The  impression  is  cunningly  made,  that  slavery  is  the 
only  power  that  can  prevent  the  laboring  white  man 
from  falling  to  the  level  of  the  slave's  poverty  and 


CONFLICT  BETWEEN  WHITE  AND  BLACK  LABOR.       311 

degradation.  To  make  this  enmity  deep  and  broad, 
between  tlie  slave  and  the  poor  white  man,  the  latter 
is  allowed  to  abuse  and  whip  the  former,  without  hin- 
derance.  But — as  I  have  suggested — this  state  of 
facts  prevails  mostly  in  the  country.  In  the  city  of 
Baltimore,  there  are  not  nnfrequent  murmurs,  that 
educating  the  slaves  to  be  mechanics  may,  in  the  end, 
give  slave-masters  power  to  dispense  with  the  services 
of  the  poor  white  man  altogether.  But,  with  charac- 
teristic dread  of  offending  the  slaveholders,  these  poor, 
white  mechanics  in  Mr.  Gardiner's  ship-yard — in- 
stead of  applying  the  natural,  honest  remedy  for  the 
apprehended  evil,  and  objecting  at  once  to  work  there 
by  the  side  of  slaves — made  a  cowardly  attack  upon  the 
free  colored  mechanics,  saying  tliey  Vv^ere  eating  the 
bread  which  should  be  eaten  by  American  freemen, 
and  swearing  that  they  would  not  work  with  them. 
The  feeling  was,  really^  against  having  their  labor 
brought  into  competition  with  that  of  the  colored 
people  at  all ;  but  it  was  too  much  to  strike  directly 
at  the  interest  of  the  slaveholders  ;  and,  therefore — 
proving  their  servility  and  cowardice — they  dealt 
their  blows  on  the  poor,  colored  freeman,  and  aimed 
to  prevent  liwi  from  serving  himself,  in  the  evening 
of  life,  with  the  trade  with  which  he  had  served  his 
master,  during  the  more  vigorous  portion  of  his  days. 
Had  they  succeeded  in  driving  the  black  freemen  out 
of  the  ship  yard,  they  would  have  determined  also 
upon  the  removal  of  the  black  slaves.  The  feeling 
was  very  bitter  toward  all  colored  people  in  Baltimore, 
about  this  time,  (1836,)  and  they — free  and  slave — 
eulFered  all  manner  of  insult  and  wrong. 


312  LIFE  AS  A  6LAYE. 

Until  a  very  little' wliile  before  I  went  there,  white 
and  black  ship  carpenters  worked  side  by  side,  in  the 
ship  yards  of  Mr.  Gardiner,  Mr.  Duncan,  Mr.  Walter 
Price,  and  Mr.  Robb.  Nobody  seemed  to  see  any 
impropriety  in  it.  To  outward  seeming,  all  hands  were 
well  satisfied.  Some  of  the  blacks  were  first  rate 
workmen,  and  were  given  jobs  requiring  the  highest 
skill.  All  at  once,  however,  the  white  carpenters 
knocked  ofi",  and  swore  that  they  would  no  longer 
work  on  the  same  stage  with  free  negroes.  Taking 
advantage  of  the  heavy  contract  resting  upon  Mr. 
Gardiner,  to  have  the  war  vessels  for  Mexico  ready 
to  launch  in  July,  and  of  the  difiiculty  of  getting  oth- 
er hands  at  that  season  of  the  year,  they  swore  they 
would  not  strike  another  blow  for  him,  unless  he  would 
discharge  his  free  colored  workmen, 

JSTow,  although  this  movement  did  not  extend  to 
me,  ill  form^  it  did  reach  me,  hi  fact.  The  spirit 
which  it  awakened  was  one  of  malice  and  bitterness, 
toward  colored  people  generally^  and  I  suflered  with 
the  rest,  and  suftered  severely.  My  fellow  apprenti- 
ces very  sooin  began  to  feel  it  to  be  degrading  to  work 
with  me.  They  began  to  put  on  high  looks,  and  to 
talk  contemptuously  and  maliciously  of  "  the  niggers  /" 
saying,  that  "  they  would  take  the  country,"  that 
"  they  ought  to  be  killed."  Encouraged  by  the  cow- 
ardly workmen,  who,  knowing  me  to  be  a  slave,  made 
no  issue  with  Mr.  Gardiner  about  my  being  there, 
these  young  men  did  their  utmost  to  make  it  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  stay.  They  seldom  called  me  to  do  any 
thing,  without  coupling  the  call  with  a  curse,  and, 
Edward  ISTorth,  the  biggest  in  every  thing,  rascality 


DESCnilPTION  OF  THE  OCJTKAGE.  313 

included,  ventured  to  strike  me,  wliereupon  I  picked 
him  up,  and  threw  liim  into  the  dock.  Whenever 
any  of  them  struck  me,  I  struck  back  again,  regard- 
less of  consequences,  I  could  manage  any  of  them 
singly  /  and,  while  I  could  keep  them  from  combining, 
I  succeeded  very  well.  In  the  conflict  which  ended 
my  stay  at  Mr.  Gardiner's,  I  was  beset  by  four  of  them 
at  once — ISTed  ISTorth,  Ned  Hays,  Bill  Stewart,  and 
Tom  Humphreys.  Two  of  them  vrere  as  large  as  my- 
self, and  they  came  near  killing  me,  in  broad  day 
light.  The  attack  was  made  suddenly,  and  simulta- 
neously. One  came  in  front,  armed  with  a  brick ; 
there  was  one  at  each  side,  and  one  behind,  and  they 
closed  up  around  nie.  I  was  struck  on  all  sides  ;  and, 
while  I  was  attending  to  those  in  front,  I  received  a 
blow  on  my  head,  from  behind,  dealt  with  a  heavy 
hand-spike.  I  was  completely  stunned  by  the  blow, 
and  fell,  heavily,  on  the  ground,  among  the  timbers. 
Taking  advantage  of  my  fall,  they  rushed  upon  me, 
and  began  to  pound  me  with  their  lists.  I  let  them 
lay  on,  for  a  while,  after  I  came  to  myself,  with  a 
view  of  gaining  strength.  They  did  me  little  dam- 
age, so  far ;  but,  finally,  getting  tired  of  that  sport,  I 
gave  a  sudden  surge,  and,  despite  their  weight,  I  rose 
to  ray  hands  and  knees.  Just  as  I  did  this,  one  of  their 
number  (I  knov\r  not  which)  planted  a  blow  with  his 
boot  in  my  left  eye,  which,  for  a  time,  seemed  to  have 
burst  my  eyeball.  When  they  saw  my  eye  completely 
closed,  my  face  covered  with  blood,  and  I  staggering 
under  the  stunning  blows  they  had  given  me,  they 
left  me.  As  soon  as  I  gathered  sufficient  strength,  I 
picked  up  the  hand-spike,  and,  madly  enough^  at- 
N 


314  LIFE   AS  A  SLAIT^.. 

tempted  to  pursue  tlieiii  ;  I)ut  liere  the  carpenters  in- 
terfered, and  compelled  me  to  give  up  my  frenzied 
pursuit.  It  was  impossible  to  stand  against  so  many. 
Dear  reader,  you  can  hardly  believe  the  statement, 
but  it  is  true,  and,  therefore,  I  vrrite  it  down  :  not 
fewer  than  fifty  white  men  stood  by,  and  saw  this 
brutal  and  shameless  outrage  committed,  and  not  a 
man  of  them  all  interposed  a  single  word  of  mercy. 
Tliere  were  four  against  one,  and  that  one's  face  was 
beaten  and  battered  most  horribly,  and  no  one  said, 
''  that  is  enough  ; "  but  some  cried  out,  ^'  kill  him — 
kill  him — kill  the  d — d  nis^o^er!  knock  his  brains 
out — he  struck  a  white  person."  I  mention  this  in- 
human outcry,  to  show  the  character  of  the  men,  and 
the  spirit  of  the  times,  at  Gardiner's  ship  yard,  and, 
indeed,  in  Baltimore  j^enerallv,  in  1836.  As  I  look 
back  to  this  period,  I  am  almost  amazed  that  I  was 
not  murdered  outright,  in  that  ship  yard,  so  murder- 
ous was  the  spirit  which  prevailed  there.  On  two 
occasions,  while  there,  I  came  near  losing  my  life. 
I  was  driving  bolts  in  the  hold,  through  the  keelson, 
with  Hays.  In  its  course,  the  bolt  bent.  Hays  cursed 
me,  and  said  that  it  was  my  blow  w^iich  bent  the 
bolt.  I  denied  this,  and  charged  it  upon  him.  In  a 
fit  of  rage  he  seized  an  adze,  and  darted  toward  me. 
I  met  him  with  a  maul,  and  parried  his  blow,  or  I 
should  have  tlien  lost  my  life.  A  son  of  old  Tom 
Lanman,  (the  latter's  double  murder  I  have  elsewhere 
charged  upon  him,)  in  the  spirit  of  his  miserable  fa- 
ther, made  an  assault  upon  me,  but  the  blow  with  his 
maul  missed  me.  After  the  united  assault  of  IS'orth, 
Stewart,  Hays  and  Humphreys,  finding  that  the  car- 


CONDUCT   OF   MASTER  HUGH.  815 

penters  were  as  bitter  toward  me  as  tlie  apprentices, 
and  that  the  latter  were  probably  set  on  by  the  for- 
mer, I  found  my  only  chance  for  life  was  in  flight.  I 
succeeded  in  getting  away,  without  an  additional  blow. 
To  strike  a  white  man,  was  death,  by  Lynch  law^,  in 
Gardiner's  ship  yard  ;  nor  was  there  much  of  any 
other  law  toward  colored  people,  at  that  time,  in  any 
other  part  of  Maryland.  The  whole  sentiment  of  Bal- 
timore was  murderous. 

After  making  my  escape  from  the  ship  yard,  I  v/ent 
straight  liome,  and  related  the  story  of  tlie  outrage  to 
Master  Hugh  Auld ;  and  it  is  due  to  him  to  say,  that 
his  conduct — though  he  was  not  a  religious  man — was 
every  way  more  humane  than  that  of  his  brother, 
Thomas,  when  I  went  to  the  latter  in  a  somewhat 
simihir  plight,  from  the  hands  of  "  Brother  Edward 
Coveyr  He  listened  attentively  to  my  narration  of 
the  circumstances  leading  to  the  ruffianly  outrage,  and 
gave  many  proofs  of  his  strong  indignation  at  what 
was  done.  Hugh  was  a  rough,  but  manly-hearted 
fellow,  and,  at  this  time,  his  best  nature  showed 
-itself. 

The  heart  of  my  once  almost  over-kind  mistress, 
Sophia,  was  again  melted  in  pity  toward  me.  My 
puffed-out  eye,  and  my  scarred  and  blood-covered 
face,  moved  the  dear  lady  to  tears.  She  kindly  drew 
a  chair  by  me,  and  with  friendly,  consoling  words, 
she  took  water,  and  washed  the  blood  from  my  face. 
No  mother's  hand  could  have  been  more  tender  than 
hers.  She  bound  up  my  head,  and  covered  my 
wounded  eye  witli  a  lean  piece  of  fresh  beef.  It  was 
almost   compensation  for  the  murderous  assault,  and 


81G  LIFE  AS  A  SLATE. 

my  suffering,  that  it  furnished  an  occasion  for  the 
manifestation,  once  more,  of  the  originally  character- 
istic kindness  of  my  mistress.  Her  affectionate  heart 
was  not  yet  dead,  though  much  hardened  by  time  and 
by  circumstances. 

As  for  Master  Hugh's  part,  as  I  have  said,  he  was 
furious  about  it ;  and  he  gave  expression  to  his  fury 
in  the  usual  forms  of  speech  in  that  locality.  He 
poured  curses  on  the  heads  of  the  whole  ship  yard 
company,  and  swore  that  he  would  have  satisfaction 
for  the  outrage.  His  indignation  was  really  strong 
and  healthy ;  but,  unfortunately,  it  resulted  from  the 
thought  that  his  rights  of  property,  in  my  person,  had 
not  been  respected,  more  than  from  any  sense  of  the 
oatrasie  committed  on  me  as  a  man.  I  inferred  as 
much  as  this,  from  the  fact  that  he  could,  himself,  beat 
and  mangle  when  it  suited  him  to  do  so.  Bent  on 
having  satisfaction,  as  he  said,  just  as  soon  as  I  got  a 
little  the  better  of  my  bruises,  Master  Hugh  took  me 
to  Esquire  Watson's  office,  on  Bond  street.  Fell's 
Point,  with  a  view  to  procuring  the  arrest  of  those 
who  had  assaulted  me.  He  related  the  outrage  to  the 
magistrate,  as  I  had  related  it  to  him,  and  seemed  to 
expect  that  a  warrant  would,  at  once,  be  issued  for 
the  arrest  of  the  lawless  ruffians. 

Mr.  Watson  heard  it  all,  and  instead  of  drawing  up 
his  warrant,  he  inquired. — 

"  Mr.  Auld,  who  saw  this  assault  of  which  you 
speak  ?  " 

"  It  was  done,  sir,  in  the  presence  of  a  ship  yard 
full  of  hands." 

'^  Sir,"  said  Watson,  '^  I  am  sorry,  but  I  cannot  m,ove 


COLOKED   TESTIMOJ^Y    NOTHING.  317 

in   this  matter   except  upon  the  oath  of  white  wit- 
nesses." 

^'  But  here's  the  boy  ;  look  at  his  head  and  face," 
said  the  excited  Master  Hugh  ;  "  they  show  what  has 
been  done." 

But  Watson  insisted  that  he  was  not  authorized  to 
do  anything,  unless  white  witnesses  of  the  transaction 
would  come  forward,  and  testify  to  what  had  taken 
place.  He  could  issue  no  warrant  on  my  word, 
against  white  persons ;  and,  if  I  had  been  killed  in 
the  presence  of  a  thousand  hlacks^  their  testimony, 
combined,  would  have  been  insufficient  to  arrest  a 
single  murderer.  Master  Hugh,  for  once,  was  com- 
pelled to  say,  that  this  state  of  things  was  too  had  / 
and  he  left  the  office  of  the  magistrate,  disgusted. 

Of  course,  it  was  impossible  to  get  any  white  man 
to  testify  against  my  assailants.  The  carpenters  saw 
what  was  done ;  but  the  actors  were  but  the  agents 
of  their  malice,  and  did  only  what  the  carpenters 
sanctioned.  They  had  cried,  with  one  accord,  '•'■hill 
the  nigger  !  "  Mil  the  nigger  !  "  Even  those  who  may 
have  pitied  me,  if  any  such  were  among  them,  lacked 
the  moral  courage  to  come  and  volunteer  their  evi- 
dence. The  slightest  manifestation  of  sympathy  or 
justice  toward  a  person  of  color,  was  denounced  as 
abolitionism;  and  the  name  of  abolitionist,  subjected 
its  bearer  to  frightful  liabilities.  "  D — n  aholitionists^'' 
and  "  Kill  the  niggers^''  were  the  watch-words  of  the 
foul-mouthed  ruffians  of  those  days.  Nothing  was 
done,  and  probably  there  would  not  have  been  any 
thing  done,  had  I  been  killed  in  the  affray.  The 
laws  and  the   morals  of  the   christian  citv  of  Balti 


o 


18  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 


more,  afibrded  no  protection  to  the  sable  denizens  of 
that  city. 

Master  Hugh,  on  finding  he  conld  get  no  redress 
for  the  cruel  wrong,  withdrew  me  from  the  employ- 
ment of  Mr.  Gardiner,  and  took  me  into  his  own  fami- 
ly, Mrs.  Auld  kindly  taking  care  of  me,  and  dressing 
my  wounds,  until  they  were  healed,  and  I  was  ready 
to  go  again  to  work. 

While  I  was  on  the  Eastern  Shore,  Master  Husrh 
had  met  with  reverses,  which  overthrew  his  business  ; 
and  he  had  given  np  ship  building  in  his  own  yard,  on 
the  City  Block,  and  was  now  acting  as  foreman  of  Mr. 
Yf  alter  Price.  The  best  he  could  nov7  do  for  me,  was 
to  take  me  into  Mr.  Price's  yard,  and  afford  me  the 
facilities  there,  for  completing  the  trade  which  T  had 
began  to  learn  at  Gardiner's.  Here  I  rapidly  became 
expert  in  the  use  of  my  calking  tools;  and,  intlie 
course  of  a  single  year,  I  vv^as  able  to  command  the 
highest  wages  j^aid  to  journeymen  calkers  in  Bal- 
timore. 

The  reader  will  observe  that  I  was  now  of  some 
pecuniary  value  to  my  master.  During  the  busy 
season,  I  was  bringing  six  and  seven  dollars  per  Aveek. 
I  have,  sometimes,  brought  him  as  much  as  nine  dol- 
lars a  week,  for  the  wages  were  a  dollar  and  a  half 
per  day. 

After  learning  to  calk,  I  sought  my  own  employ- 
ment, made  my  own  contracts,  and  collected  my  own 
earnings  ;  giving  Master  Hugh  no  trouble  in  any  part 
of  the  transactions  to  which  I  was  a  party. 

Here,  then,  were  better  days  for  the  Eastern  Shore 
slave.     I  was  now  free  from  the  vexatious  assaults  of 


author's  condition  impeoves.  319 

the  apprentices  at  Mr.  Gardiner's  ;  and  free  from  the 
perils  of  plantation  life,  and  once  more  in  a  favorable 
condition  to  increase  my  little  stock  of  edncation, 
which  had  been  at  a  dead  stand  since  my  removal 
from  Baltimore.  I  had,  on  the  Eastern  Shore,  been 
only  a  teacher,  when  in  company  with  other  slaves, 
but  now  there  were  colored  persons  who  could  in- 
struct me.  Many  of  the  young  calkers  could  read, 
write  and  cipher.  Some  of  them  had  high  notions 
about  mental  improvement;  and  the  free  ones,  on 
Fell's  Point,  organized  what  they  called  the  "  East 
Baltimore  Mental  Im])rovem.ent  Society P  To  this 
society,  notwithstanding  it  was  intended  that  only 
free  persons  should  attach  themselves,  I  was  admit- 
ted, and  was,  several  times,  assigned  a  prominenL 
part  in  its  debates.  I  owe  much  to  the  society  of 
these  young  men. 

The  reader  already  knows  enough  of  the  ill  effects 
of  good  treatment  on  a  slave,  to  anticipate  what  was 
now  the  case  in  my  improved  condition.  It  was  not 
long  before  I  began  to  show  signs  of  disquiet  with 
slavery,  and  to  look  around  for  means  to  get  out  of 
that  condition  by  the  shortest  route.  I  was  living 
among  freemen  j  and  was,  in  all  resj^ects,  equal  to 
them  by  nature  and  by  attainments.  Why  should  I 
he  a  slave  f  There  was  no  reason  why  I  should  be  the 
thrall  of  any  man. 

Besides,  I  was  now  getting — as  I  have  said — a 
dollar  and  fifty  cents  per  day.  I  contracted  for  it, 
worked  for  it,  earned  it,  collected  it ;  it  was  paid  to 
me,  and  it  was  rightfully  my  own ;  and  yet,  upon 
every   returning   Saturday  night,   this   money — my 


320  LIFE   AS  A  SLAVIE. 

own  hard  earnings,  every  cent  of  it — was  demanded 
of  me,  and  taken  from  me  bj  Master  Hugli.  He  did 
not  earn  it ;  lie  liad  no  hand  in  earning  it ;  why, 
then,  should  he  have  it  ?  I  owed  him  nothino-.  He 
had  given  me  no  schooling,  and  I  had  received  from 
him  only  my  food  and  raiment ;  and  for  these,  my 
services  were  supposed  to  pay,  from  the  first.  The 
right  to  take  my  earnings,  was  the  right  of  the  robber. 
He  had  the  power  to  compel  me  to  give  him  the 
fruits  of  my  labor,  and  this  power  was  his  only  right 
in  the  case.  I  became  more  and  more  dissatisfied 
with  this  state  of  things  ;  and,  in  so  becoming,  I  only 
gave  proof  of  the  same  human  nature  which  every 
reader  of  this  chapter  in  my  life — slaveholder,  or  non- 
slaveholder — is  conscious  of  possessing. 

To  make  a  contented  slave,  you  must  make  a 
thoughtless  one.  It  is  necessary  to  darken  his  moral 
and  mental  vision,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  to  annihi- 
late his  power  of  reason.  He  must  be  able  to  detect 
no  inconsistencies  in  slavery.  The  man  that  takes  his 
earnings,  must  be  able  to  convince  him  that  he  has  a 
perfect  right  to  do  so.  It  must  not  depend  upon  mere 
force ;  the  slave  must  know  no  Higher  Law  than  his 
master's  will.  The  whole  relationship  must  not  only 
demonstrate,  to  his  mind,  its  necessity,  but  its  abso- 
lute rightfulness.  If  there  be  one  crevice  through 
which  a  single  drop  can  fall,  it  will  certainly  rust  off 
the  slave's  chain. 


CIIAPTEE  XXI. 

MY  ESCAPE  FROM  SLAVERY. 

CLOSING  INCIDENTS  OF  MY  "  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVe" REASONS  "WHY  FULL  PARTICU- 
LARS OF     THE     MANNER    OF   MY  ESCAPE  WILL  NOT    BE  GIVEN CRAFTINESS 

AND  MALICE  OF    SLAVEHOLDERS SUSPICION    OF    AIDING  A  SLAVe's  ESCAPE 

ABOUT    AS    DANGEROUS  AS    POSITIVE  EVIDENCE WANT  OF  WISDOM    SHOWN 

IN  PUBLISHING  DETAILS  OF  THE  ESCAPE  OF  FUGITIVES PUBLISHED  AC- 
COUNTS REACH  THE  MASTERS,  NOT  THE  SLAVES SLAVEHOLDERS  STIMULATED 

TO  GREATER  WATCHFULNESS AUTHOr's  CONDITION DISCONTENT SUS- 
PICIONS IMPLIED  BY  MASTER  IIUGIl's  MANNER,  WHEN  RECEIVING  MY  WA- 
GES  His  OCCASIONAL  GENEROSITY! DIFFICULTIES  IN  THE  WAY  OF  ES- 
CAPE  EVERY  AVENUE  GUARDED PLAN  TO  OBTAIN  MONEY AUTHOR  AL- 
LOWED TO   HIRE    HIS    TIME A  GLEAM  OF  HOPE ATTENDS    CAMP-MEETING, 

WITHOUT  PERMISSION ANGER  OF  MASTER  HUGH  THEREAT — THE  RESULT 

MY  PLANS  OF  ESCAPE  ACCELERATED  THEREBY THE  DAY  FOR  MY  DEPAR- 
TURE   FIXED HARASSED    BY    DOUBTS    AND    FEARS PAINFUL  THOUGHTS  OF 

SEPARATION  FR'JM  FRIENDS THE  ATTEMPT  MADE ITS  SUCCESS. 

I  WILL  TiOAv  make  the  kind  reader  acquainted  with 
the  closing  incidents  of  my  "  Life  as  a  Slave,"  having 
already  trenched  upon  the  limit  allotted  to  my  "  Life 
as  a  Freeman."  Before,  however,  proceeding  with 
this  narration,  it  is,  perhaps,  proper  that  I  shonkU 
frankly  state,  in  advance,  my  intention  to  withhold  a 
part  of  the  facts  connected  with  my  escape  from  slave- 
ry. There  are  reasons  for.  this  suppression,  which  I 
trust  the  reader  will  deem  altogether  valid.  It  may 
be  easily  conceived,  that  a  fidl  and  complete  state- 
ment of  all  the  facts  pertaining  to  the  flight  of  a  bond- 
man, might  implicate  and  embarrass  some  who  may 
N*  21 


322  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

have,  wittingly  or  unwittingly,  assisted  liim  ;  and  no 
one  can  wish  me  to  involve  any  man  or  woman  who 
has  befriended  me,  even  in  the  liability  of  embarrass- 
ment or  trouble. 

Keen  is  the  scentof  the  slaveholder ;  like  the  fangs 
of  the  rattlesnake,  his  malice  retains  its  poison  long ; 
and,  although  it  is  now  nearly  seventeen  years  since 
I  made  my  escape,  it  is  well  to  be  careful,  in  dealing 
with  the  circumstances  relatino^  to  it.  Were  I  to  srive 
but  a  shadowy  outline  of  the  process  adopted,  with 
characteristic  aptitude,  the  craftj^  and  malicious 
among  the  slaveholders  might,  possibly,  hit  upon  the 
track  I  pursued,  and  involve  some  one  in  suspicion, 
which,  in  a  slave  state,  is  about  as  bad  as  positive 
evidence.  The  colored  man,  there,  must  not  only 
shun  evil,  but  shun  the  very  appearance  of  evil,  or  be 
condemned  as  a  criminal.  A  slaveholding  commu- 
nity has  a  peculiar  taste  for  ferreting  out  offenses 
against  the  slave  system,  justice  there  being  more  sen- 
sitive in  its  regard  for  the  peculiar  rights  of  this  sys- 
tem, than  for  any  other  interest  or  institution.  By 
stringing  together  a  train  of  events  and  circumstances, 
even  if  I  were  not  very  explicit,  the  means  of  escape 
might  be  ascertained,  and,  possibly,  those  means  be 
rendered,  thereafter,  no  longer  available  to  the  liber- 
tv-seekino;  children  of  bonda«:e  I  have  left  behind  me. 
No  anti-slavery  man  can  wisli  me  to  do  anytliing  fa- 
voring such  results,  and  no  slaveholding  reader  has 
any  right  to  expect  the  impartment  of  such  infor- 
mation. 
*^  AVhile,  therefore,  it  would  afford  me  pleasure,  and 
perhaps  would  materially  add  to  the  interest  of  my 


MANNER  OF  MY  ESCAPE  NOT  GIVEN.  323 

stoiy,  were  I  at  liberty  to  gratify  a  curiosity  which  I 
know  to  exist  in  the  minds  of  many,  as  to  tlie  manner 
of  my  escape,  I  must  deprive  myself  of  this  pleasure, 
and  the  curious  of  the  gratification,  which  such  a  state- 
ment of  facts  would  afford.  I  would  allow  myself  to 
sufi'er  under  the  greatest  imputations  that  evil  minded 
men  might  suggest,  rather  than  exculpate  myself  by 
an  explanation,  and  thereby  run  the  hazard  of  closing 
the  slightest  avenue  by  which  a  brother  in  sufi*ering 
might  clear  himself  of  the  chains  and  fetters  of  slavery. 

The  practice  of  publishing  every  new  invention  by 
which  a  slave  is  known  to  have  escaped  from  slavery, 
has  neither  wisdom  nor  necessity  to  sustain  it.  Had 
not  Henry  Box  Brown  and  his  friends  attracted  slave- 
holding  attention  to  the  manner  of  his  escape,  we 
might  have  had  a  thousand  Box  Brovjiis  per  annum. 
The  singularly  original  plan  adopted  by  William  and 
Ellen  Crafts,  perished  with  the  first  using,  because 
every  slaveholder  in  the  land  was  apprised  of  it.  The 
salt  water  slave  who  hung  in  the  guards  of  a  steamer, 
being  washed  three  days  and  three  nights — like  another 
Jonah — by  the  waves  of  the  sea,  lias,  by  the  publicity 
given  to  the  circumstance,  set  a  spy  on  the  guards  of 
every  steamer  departing  from  southern  ports. 

I  have  never  approved  of  the  very  public  manner, 
in  which  some  of  our  western  friends  have  conducted 
what  they  call  the  "  Unchr-ground  Railroad^''  but 
which,  I  think,  by  their  open  declarations,  has  been 
made,  most  emphatically,  the  "  Zyj^pcr-ground  Rail- 
road." Its  stations  are  far  better  known  to  the  slave- 
holders than  to  the  slaves.  I  honor  those  good  men 
and  women  for  their  noble  daring,  in  willingly  sub- 


324  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

jecting  themselves  to  persecution,  by  openly  avow- 
ing their  participation  in  the  escape  of  slaves ;  never- 
theless, the  good  resulting  from  such  avowals,  is  of  a 
very  questionable  character.  It  may  kindle  an  en- 
thusiasm, very  pleasant  to  inhale  ;  but  that  is  of  no 
practical  benefit  to  themselves,  nor  to  the  slaves  escap- 
ing. Nothing  is  more  evident,  than  that  such  disclo- 
sures are  a  positive  evil  to  the  slaves  remaining,  and 
seeking  to  escape.  In  publishing  such  accounts,  the 
anti-slavery  man  addresses  the  slaveholder,  not  the 
slave  y  he  stimulates  the  former  to  greater  watch- 
fulness, and  adds  to  his  facilities  for  capturing  his 
slave.  We  owe  something  to  the  slaves,  south  of  Ma- 
son and  Dixon's  line,  as  well  as  to  those  north  of  it; 
and,  in  discharging  the  duty  of  aiding  the  latter,  on 
their  way  to  freedom,  we  should  be  careful  to  do  no- 
thing which  would  be  likely  to  hinder  j:he  former,  in  ma- 
king their  escape  from  slavery.  Such  is  my  detesta- 
tion of  slavery,  that  I  would  keep  the  merciless  slave- 
holder profoundly  ignorant  of  the  means  of  flight  adop- 
ted by  the  slave.  He  should  be  loft  to  imagine  him- 
self surrounded  by  myriads  of  invisible  tormentors, 
ever  ready  to  snatch,  from  his  infernal  grasp,  his 
trembling  prey.  In  pursuing  his  victim,  let  him  be 
left  to  feel  his  way  in  the  dark  ;  let  shades  of  darkness, 
commensurate  with  his  crimic,  shut  every  ray  of  light 
from  his  pathway  ;  and  let  him  be  made  to  feel,  that, 
at  every  step  he  takes,  with  the  hellish  purpose  of  re- 
ducing a  brother  man  to  slavery,  he  is  running  the 
frightful  risk  of  having  his  hot  brains  dashed  out  by 
an  invisible  hand. 
But,  enough  of  this.    I  will  now  proceed  to  the 


CEAia'INT:SS  OF  SLAYEHOLDEES.  325 

statement  of  those  facts,  connected  with  my  escape, 
for  which  I  am  alone  responsible,  and  for  which  no 
one  can  be  made  to  suffer  but  myself. 

My  condition  in  the  year  (1838)  of  my  escape,  was, 
comparatively,  a  free  and  easy  one,  so  far,  at  least,  as 
the  wants  of  the  physical  man  were  concerned  ;  but 
the  reader  will  bear  in  mind,  that  my  troubles  from 
the  beginning,  have  been  less  physical  than  mental, 
and  he  will  thus  be  prepared  to  find,  after  what  is  nar- 
rated in  the  previous  chapters,  that  slave  life  was  add- 
ing nothing  to  its  charms  for  me,  as  I  grew  older, 
and  became  better  acquainted  with  it.  The  practice, 
from  Aveek  to  week,  of  openly  robbing  me  of  all  my 
earnings,  kept  the  nature  and  character  of  slavery  con- 
stantly before  me.  I  could  be  robbed  by  indirection.^ 
but  this  was  too  open  and  barefaced  to  be  en- 
dured. I  could  see  no  reason  why  I  should,  at  the 
end  of  each  week,  pour  the  reward  of  my  honest  toil 
into  the  purse  of  any  man.  The  thought  itself  vexed 
me,  and  the  manner  in  which  Master  Hugh  received 
my  wages,  vexed  me  more  than  the  original  wiong. 
Carefully  counting  the  money  and  rolling  it  out,  dol- 
lar by  dollar,  he  would  look  me  in  the  face,  as  if 
he  would  search  my  heart  as  well  as  my  pocket,  and 
reproachfully  ask  me,  ^^  Is  tJiat  all  f ''^ — implying  that 
I  had,  perhaps,  kept  back  part  of  my  wages ;  or,  if 
not  so,  the  demand  was  made,  possibly,  to  make  me 
feel,  that,  after  all,  I  was  an  "  unprofitable  servant." 
Draining  me  of  the  last  cent  of  my  hard  earnings,  he 
would,  however,  occasionally — when  I  brought  home 
an  extra  large  sum — dole  out  to  me  a  sixpence  or  a 
shilling,  with  a  view,  perhaps,  of  kindling  up  my  grat- 


326  LIFE   AS   A  SLAVE. 

itude ;  but  this  practice  had  the  opposite  effect — it 
was  an  admission  of  my  right  to  the  whole  sum.  The 
fact,  that  he  gave  me  any  part  of  my  wages,  was  proof 
that  he  suspected  that  I  had  a  right  to  the  whole  of 
them.  I  always  felt  uncomfortable,  after  having  re- 
ceived anything  in  this  way,  for  I  feared  that  the 
giving  me  a  few  cents,  might,  possibly,  ease  his  con- 
science, and  make  him  feel  himself  a  pretty  honorable 
robber,  after  all ! 

Held  to  a  strict  account,  and  kept  under  a  close 
watch — the  old  suspicion  of  my  running  away  not 
having  been  entirely  removed — escape  from  slavery, 
even  in  Baltimore,  was  very  difficult.  The  raih'oad 
from  Baltimore  to  Philadelphia  was  under  regulations 
so  stringent,  that  even  free  colored  travelers  were  al- 
most excluded.  They  must  have  free  papers  ;  they 
must  be  measured  and  carefully  examined,  before 
they  were  allowed  to  enter  the  cars ;  they  only  went 
in  the  day  time,  even  when  so  examined.  The  steam- 
boats were  under  regulations  equally  stringent.  All 
the  great  turnpikes,  leading  northward,  were  beset 
with  kidnappers,  a  class  of  men  who  watched  the 
newspapers  for  advertisements  for  runaway  slaves, 
making  their  living  by  the  accursed  reward  of  slave 
hunting. 

My  discontent  grew  upon  me,  and  I  was  on  the 
look-out  for  means  of  escape.  With  money,  I  could 
easil}'  have  managed  the  matter,  and,  therefore,  I  hit 
upon  the  plan  of  soliciting  the  privilege  of  hiring  my 
time.  It  is  quite  common,  in  Baltimore,  to  allow 
slaves  this  privilege,  and  it  is  the  j^ractice,  also,  in 
l^ew  Orleans.     A  slave  who  is  considered  trust-wor- 


AUTHOR  ALLOWED  TO  HIKE  HIS  TIME.  827 

thy,  can,  hj  paying  his  master  a  definite  sum  regu- 
larly, at  the  end  of  each  week,  dispose  of  his  time  as 
he  likes.  It  so  happened  that  I  was  not  in  very  good 
odor,  and  1  was  far  from  being  a  trust-worthy  slave. 
Nevertheless,  I  watched  m}^  opportunity  when  Mas- 
ter Thomas  came  to  Baltimore,  (for  I  was  still  his 
property,  Hugh  only  acted  as  his  agent,)  in  the  spring 
of  1838,  to  purchase  his  spring  supply  of  goods,  and 
applied  to  him,  directly,  for  the  much-coveted  privi- 
lege of  hiring  my  time.  This  request  Master  Thomas 
unhesitatingly  refused  to  grant ;  and  he  charged  me, 
with  some  sternness,  with  inventing  this  stratagem  to 
make  my  escape.  He  told  me,  "  I  could  go  nowhere 
I)ut  he  could  catch  me;  and,  in  the  event  of  my  run- 
ning away,  I  might  be  assured  he  should  spare  no 
pains  in  his  efforts  to  recapture  me.  He  recounted, 
with  a  good  deal  of  eloquence,  the  many  kind  offices 
he  had  done  me,  and  exhorted  me  to  be  contented 
and  obedient.  "  Lay  out  no  plans  for  the  future," 
said  he.  "  If  you  behave  yourself  properly,  I  will 
take  care  of  you."  ITow,  kind  and  considerate  as 
this  offer  was,  it  failed  to  soothe  me  into  repose.  In 
spite  of  Master  Thomas,  and,  I  may  say,  in  spite  of 
myself,  also,  I  continued  to  think,  and  worse  still,  to 
think  almost  exclusively  about  the  injustice  and  wick- 
edness of  slavery.  ISTo  effort  of  mine  or  of  his  could 
silence  this  trouble-giving  thought,  or  change  my  pur- 
pose to  run  away. 

About  two  months  after  applying  to  Master  Thom- 
as for  tlie  2^i'ivilege  of  hiring  my  time,  I  applied  to 
Master  Hugh  for  the  same  liberty,  supposing  him 
to   be  unacquainted  with  the  fact  that  I  had  made  a 


Q 


28  LIFE  AS  A  SLAYE. 


similar  a'^plication  to  Master  Thomas,  and  had  been 
refused.  My  bokhiess  in  making  this  request,  fairly 
astounded  him  at  the  first.  He  gazed  at  me  in 
amazement.  But  I  had  many  good  reasons  for  press- 
ing the  matter ;  and,  after  listening  to  them  awliile, 
he  did  not  absolutely  refuse,  but  told  me  he  would 
think  of  it.  Here,  then,  was  a  gleam  of  hope.  Once 
master  of  m j  own  time,  I  felt  sure  that  I  could  make, 
over  and  above  mj  obligation  to  him,  a  dollar  or  two 
every  week.  Some  slaves  have  made  enough,  in  this 
way,  to  purchase  their  freedom.  It  is  a  sharp  spur  to 
industry ;  and  some  of  the  most  enterprising  colored 
men  in  Baltimore  hire  themselves  in  this  way.  Af- 
ter mature  .reflection — as  I  must  suppose  it  was — • 
Master  Hugh  granted  me  the  privilege  in  question, 
on  the  following  terms :  I  was  to  be  allowed  all  my 
time;  to  make  all  bargains  for  work;  to  find  my  own 
employment,  and  to  collect  my  own  wages ;  and,  in 
return  for  this  liberty,  I  was  required,  or  obliged,  to 
pay  him  three  dollars  at  the  end  of  each  week,  and 
to  board  and  clothe  myself,  and  buy  my  own  calking 
tools.  A  failure  in  any  of  these  particulars  would  put 
an  end  to  my  privilege.  This  v»^as  a  hard  bargain. 
The  wear  and  tear  of  clothing,  the  losing  and  break- 
ing of  tools,  and  the  expense  of  board,  made  it  neces- 
sary for  me  to  earn  at  least  six  dollars  per  week,  to 
keep  even  with  the  world.  All  who  are  acquainted 
with  calkins^,  know  how  uncertain  and  irreanilar  that 
employment  is.  It  can  be  done  to  advantage  only  in 
dry  weather,  for  it  is  useless  to  put  wet  oakum  into  a 
seam.  Eain  or  shine,  however,  work  or  no  work,  at 
the  end  of  each  week  the  money  must  be  forthcoming. 


ATTENDS  CAMP-MEETINa.  829 

Master  Hugh  seemed  to  be  very  mucli  pleased,  for 
a  time,  with  this  arrangement ;  and  well  he  might  be, 
for  it  was  decidedly  in  liis  favor.  It  relieved  him  of 
all  anxiety  concerning  me.  His  money  was  sure.  lie 
had  armed  my  love  of  liberty  with  a  lasli  and  a  dri- 
ver, far  more  efficient  than  any  I  had  before  known ; 
and,  while  he  derived  all  the  benefits  of  slaveholding 
by  the  arrangement,  without  its  evils,  I  endured  all 
the  evils  of  being  a  slave,  and  yet  suffered  all  the  care 
and  anxiety  of  a  responsible  freeman.  "  Neverthe- 
less," thought  I,  "  it  is  a  valuable  privilege — another 
step  in  my  career  toward  freedom."  It  was  some- 
thing even  to  be  permitted  to  stagger  under  the  dis- 
advantages of  liberty,  and  I  was  determined  to  hold 
on  to  the  newly  gained  footing,  by  all  proper  indus- 
try. I  was  ready  to  work  by  night  as  well  as  by  day  ; 
and  being  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent  health,  I  was 
able  not  only  to  meet  my  current  expenses,  but  also 
to  lay  by  a  small  sum  at  the  end  of  each  week.  All 
went  on  thus,  from  the  month  of  May  till  August ; 
then — for  reasons  which  will  become  apparent  as  I  pro- 
ceed— my  much  valued  liberty  was  wrested  from  me. 

During  the  week  previous  to  this  (to  me)  calami- 
tous event,  I  had  made  arrangements  with  a  few  young 
friends,  to  accompany  them,  on  Saturday  night,  to  a 
camp-meeting,  held  about  twelve  miles  from  Balti- 
more. On  the  evening  of  our  intended  start  for  the 
camp-ground,  something  occurred  in  the  ship  yard 
where  I  was  at  work,  which  detained  me  unusually 
late,  and  compelled  me  eithSr  to  disappoint  my  young 
friends,  or  to  neglect  carrying  my  weekly  dues  to 
Master  Hugh.     Knowing  that  I  had  the  money,  and 


830  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

could  hand  it  to  liim  on  another  day,  I  decided  to  go 
to  camp-meeting,  and  to  pay  him  the  three  dollars, 
for  the  past  week,  on  my  return.  Once  on  the  camp- 
ground, I  was  induced  to  remain  one  day  longer  than 
I  liad  intended,  when  I  left  home.  But,  as  soon  as 
I  returned,  I  went  straight  to  his  house  on  Fell  street, 
to  hand  him  his  (my)  money.  Unhappily,  the  fatal 
mistake  had  been  committed.  I  found  him  exceed- 
ingly angry.  He  exhibited  all  the  signs  of  apprehen- 
sion and  wrath,  which  a  slaveholder  may  be  surmised 
to  exhibit  on  the  supposed  escape  of  a  favorite  slave. 
"You  rascal !  I  have  a  great  mind  to  give  you  a  se- 
vere whipping.  How  dare  you  go  out  of  the  city 
without  first  asking  and  obtaining  my  permission  ? " 
"Sir,"  said  I,  "1  hired  my  time  and  paid  you  the 
price  you  asked  for  it.  I  did  not  know  that  it  was 
any  part  of  the  bargain  that  I  should  ask  you  when 
or  where  I  should  go." 

"  You  did  not  know,  you  rascal !  You  are  bound  to 
show  yourself  here  every  Saturday  night."  After  re- 
flecting, a  few  moments,  he  became  somewhat  cooled 
down ;  but,  evidently  greatly  troubled,  he  said, 
"ISTow,  you  scoundrel!  you  have  done  for  yourself ; 
you  shall  hire  your  time  no  longer.  The  next  thing 
I  shall  hear  of,  will  be  your  running  away.  Bring 
home  your  tools  and  your  clothes,  at  once.  I'll  teach 
you  how  to  go  off  in  this  way." 

Thus  ended  my  partial  freedom.  I  could  hire  my 
time  no  longer  ;  and  I  obeyed  my  master's  orders  at 
once.  The  little  taste  of*  liberty  which  I  had  had — • 
although  as  the  reader  will  have  seen,  it  was  far  from 
being  unalloyed — by  no  means  enhanced  my  content- 


AlSraEK  OF   MASTEE  HUGH.  331 

ment  with  slavery.  Punished  thus  by  Master  Hugh, 
it  was  now  my  turn  to  punish  him.  "  Since,"  thought 
I,  "  y/k)u.  tvill  make  a  slave  of  me,  I  will  await  your 
orders  in  all  things ; "  and,  instead  of  going  to  look 
for  work  on  Monday  morning,  as  I  had  formerly  done, 
I  remained  at  home  during  the  entire  week,  without 
the  performance  of  a  single  stroke  of  work.  Saturday 
night  came,  and  he  called  upon  me,  as  usual,  for  my 
wages.  I,  of  course,  told  him  I  had  done  no  work, 
and  had  no  wages.  Here  we  were  at  the  point  of 
coming-to  blows.  His  wrath  had  been  accumulating 
during  the  whole  week ;  for  he  evidently  saw  that  I 
was  making  no  effort  to  get  work,  but  was  most  ag- 
gravatingly  awaiting  his  orders,  in  all  things.  As  I 
look  back  to  this  behavior  of  mine,  I  scarcely  know 
what  possessed  me,  thus  to  trifle  with  those  who  had 
such  unlimited  power  to  bless  or  to  blast  me.  Mas- 
ter Hugh  raved  and  swore  his  determination  to  "  get 
hold  of  m^y"  but,  wisely  for  him^  and  happily  for 
m^,  his  wrath  only  employed  those  very  harmless,  im- 
palpable missiles,  which  roll  from  a  limber  tongue. 
In  my  desperation,  I  had  fully  made  up  my  mind  to 
measure  strength  with  Master  Hugh,  in  case  he  should 
undertake  to  execute  his  threats.  I  am  glad  there 
was  no  necessity  for  this  ;  for  resistance  to  him  could 
not  have  ended  so  happily  for  me,  as  it  did  in  the  case 
of  Covey.  He  was  not  a  man  to  be  safely  resisted 
by  a  slave ;  and  I  freely  own,  that  in  my  conduct  to- 
ward him,  in  this  instance,  there  was  more  folly  than 
wisdom.  Master  Hugh  closed  his  reproofs,  by  telling 
me  that,  hereafter,  I  need  give  myself  no  uneasiness 
about  getting  work ;  that  he  "  would,  himself,  see  to 


832  LIFE  AS    A  SLAVE. 

getting  work  for  me,  and  enongli  of  it,  at  that."  This 
threat  I  confess  had  some  terror  in  it ;  and,  on  think- 
ing the  matter  over,  during  the  Sunday,  I  re»€>lved, 
not  only  to  save  him  the  trouble  of  getting  me  v^ork, 
but  that,  upon  the  third  day  of  September,  I  would 
attempt  to  make  my  escape  from  slavery.  The  re- 
fusal to  allow  me  to  hire  my  time,  therefore,  hastened 
the  period  of  my  flight.  I  had  three  weeks,  now,  iu 
which  to  prepare  for  my  journey. 

Once  resolved,  I  felt  a  certain  degree  of  repose, 
and  on  Monday,  instead  of  waiting  for  Master  Hugh 
to  seek  employment  for  me,  I  was  up  by  break  of  day, 
and  off  to  the  ship  yard  of  Mr.  Butler,  on  the  City 
Block,  near  the  draw-bridge.  I  was  a  favorite  with 
Mr.  B.,  and,  young  as  I  was,  I  had  served  as  his  fore- 
man on  the  float  stage,  at  calking.  Of  course, 
I  easilj^  obtained  work,  and,  at  the  end  of  the 
week — which  by  the  .way  was  exceedingly  fine — I 
brought  Master  Hugh  nearly  nine  dollars.  The  ef- 
fect of  this  mark  of  returning  good  sense,  on  my  part, 
w*as  excellent.  He  was  very  much  pleased ;  he  took 
the  money,  commended  me,  and  told  me  I  might 
have  done  the  same  thing  the  week  before.  It  is  a 
blessed  thing  that  the  tyrant  may  not  always  know 
the  thoughts  and  purposes  of  his  victim.  Master 
Hugh  little  knew  what  my  plans  were.  The  going 
to  camp-meeting  without  asking  his  j^ermission — the 
insolent  answers  made  to  his  reproaches — the  sulky 
deportment  the  week  after  being  deprived  of  the 
privilege  of  hiring  my  time — had  awakened  in  him 
the  suspicion  that  I  might  be  cherishing  disloyal  pur- 
poses.     My  object,  therefore,  in  working   steadily, 


PAINFUL  THOUGHTS  OF  SEPARATION.  333 

was  to  remove  anspicion,  and  in  this  I  succeeded  ad- 
mirably, lie  probably  thought  I  was  never  better 
satisfied  with  my  condition,  than  at  the  very  time  I 
was  planning  my  escape.  The  second  week  passed, 
and  again  I  carried  him  my  full  week's  wages — nine 
dollars ;  and  so  well  pleased  was  he,  that  he  gave 
me  TWENTY-FIVE  CENTS !  and  "bade me  make  good  use 
of  it !  "  I  told  him  I  would,  for  one  of  the  uses  to 
which  I  meant  to  put  it,  was  to  pay  my  fare  on  the 
underground  railroad. 

Things  without  went  on  as  usual ;  but  I  was  passing 
through  the  same  internal  excitement  and  anxiety 
which  I  had  experienced  two  years  and  a  half  be- 
fore. The  failure,  in  that  instance,  was  not  calculated 
to  increase  my  confidence  in  the  success  of  this,  my 
second  attempt ;  and  I  knew  that  a  second  failure 
could  not  leave  me  where  my  first  did — I  must  either 
get  to  the/a?*  norths  or  be  sent  to  i\\Q  far  south.  Be- 
sides the  exercise  of  mind  from  this  state  of  facts,  I 
had  the  painful  sensation  of  being  about  to  separate 
from  a  circle  of  honest  and  warm  hearted  friends,  in 
Baltimore.  The  thought  of  such  a  separation,  where 
the  hope  of  ever  meeting  again  is  excluded,  and  where 
there  can  be  no  correspondence,  is  very  painful.  It 
is  my  opinion,  that  thousands  would  escape  from 
slavery  who  now  remain  there,  but  for  tlie  strong 
cords  of  afi'ection  that  bind  them  to  their  families,  rel- 
atives and  friends.  The  daughter  is  hindered  from 
escaping,  by  the  love  she  bears  her  mother,  and  the 
father,  by  the  love  he  bears  his  children  ;  and  so,  to  the 
end  of  the  chapter.  I  had  no  relations  in  Baltimore, 
and  I  saw  no  probability  of  ever  living,  in  the  neigh- 


334  LIFE  AS  A  SLAVE. 

borlioocl  of  sisters  and  brothers ;  but  the  thoiiglit  of 
leaving  my  friends,  was  among  the  strongest  obsta- 
cles to  my  running  away.  The  last  two  days  of  the 
week — Friday  and  Saturday — were  spent  mostly  in 
collecting  my  things  together,  for  my  journey.  Hav- 
ing worked  four  days  that  week,  for  my  master,  I 
handed  him  six  dollars,  on  Saturday  night.  I  seldom 
spent  my  Sundays  at  home  ;  and,  for  fear  that  some- 
thing might  be  discovered  in  my  conduct,  I  kept  up 
my  custom,  and  absented  myself  all  day.  On  Mon- 
day, the  third  day  of  September,  1838,  in  accordance 
with  my  resolution,  I  bade  farewell  to  the  city  of  Bal- 
timore, and  to  that  slavery  which  had  been  my  ab- 
horrence from  childhood. 

How  I  got  away — in  what  direction  I  traveled — • 
whether  by  land  or  by  water ;  whether  with  or  with- 
out assistance — must,  for  reasons  already  mentioned, 
remain  unexplained. 


LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 


CHAPTER  XZII. 

LIBERTY  ATTAI]S'ED. 

TEANSITION  FROM  SLAVEUY  TO    FREEDOM A  "V\rAXDERER    IX    NEW    fORK 

FEELING'^  OX  REACT! IXG  THAT    CITY AX  OLD    ACQUAIXTAXCE  MET UNFA- 
VORABLE   IMPRE'^SIONS LOXELTXESS    AXD    INSECURITY APOLOGY    FOR 

SLAVES  WHO  RETURX  TO    THEtR    MASTERS COMPELLED    TO    TELL  MY  CON- 

DITIOX SUCCORED  BY  A  SAILOR DAVID    RUGGLES THE  UXDER-GROUXD 

RAILROAD MARRIAGE BAGGAGE  TAKEN  FROM  ME KIXDXESS  OF  NA- 
THAN JOHNSON THE  AUTHOR's    CHANGE    OF    NAME DARK    NOTIONS    OF 

NORTHERX  CIVILIZATION ^THE   COXTRAST COLORED  PEOPLE  IN  NEW  BED- 
FORD  AX  IXCIDEXT  ILLUSTRATIXG  THEIR  SPIRIT THE  AUTHOR  AS  A  COM- 

MOX  LABORER DEXIED  WORK  AT  HIS  TRADE THE  FIRST  WINTER  AT  THE 

NORTH REPULSE  AT  THE  DOORS  OF  THE  CHURCH SANCTIFIED  HATE THE 

LIBERATOR  AND  ITS  EDITOR. 

There  is  no  necessity  for  any  extended  notice  of 
the  incidents  of  this  part  of  my  life.  There  is  no- 
thing very  striking  or  peculiar  about  my  career  as  a 
freeman,  when  viewed  apart  from  my  life  as  a  slave. 
The  rehition  subsisting  between  my  early  experience 
and  that  which  I  am  now  about  to  narrate,  is,  per- 
haps, my  best  apology  for  adding  another  chapter  to 
tliis  book. 

Disappearing  from  the  kind  reader,  in  a  flying 
cloud  or  balloon,  (pardon  the  figure,)  driven  by  tlie 


336  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

"^'ind,  and  knowing  not  where  I  shonld  land — whether 
in  slavery  or  in  freedom — it  is  proper  that  I  sliould 
remove,  at  once,  all  anxiety,  hy  frankly  making 
known  where  I  alighted.  The  flight  was  a  bold  and 
perilous  one  ;  but  here  I  am,  in  the  great  city  of 
New  York,  safe  and  sound,  without  loss  of  blood  or 
bone.  In  less  than  a  week  after  leaving  Baltimore, 
I  was  walking  amid  the  hurrying  throng,  and  gazing 
upon  the  dazzling  wonders  of  Broadway.  The 
dreams  of  my  childhood  and  the  purposes  of  my 
manhood  were  now  fultilled.  A  free  state  around 
me,  and  a  free  earth  under  mv  feet !  What  a  mo- 
ment  was  this  to  me  !  A  whole  year  was  pressed 
into  a  single  day.  A  new  world  burst  upon  my  agi- 
tated vision.  I  have  often  been  asked,  by  kind 
friends  to  whom  I  have  told  my  story,  how  I  felt 
when  first  I  found  myself  beyond  the  limits  of  sla- 
very ;  and  I  must  say  here,  as  I  have  often  said  to 
them,  there  is  scarcely  anything  about  which  I  could 
not  give  a  more  satisfactory  answer.  It  w^as  a  mo- 
ment of  joyous  excitement,  which  no  words  can  de- 
scribe. In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  written  soon  after 
reaching  'New  York,  I  said  I  felt  as  one  might  be  sup- 
posed to  feel,  on  escaping  from  a  den  of  hungry  lions. 
But,  in  a  moment  like  that,  sensations  are  too  in- 
tense and  too  rapid  for  words.  Anguish  and  grief, 
like  darkness  and  rain,  may  be  described,  but  joy 
and  gladness,  like  the  rainbow  of  promise,  defy 
alike  the  pen  and  pencil. 

For  ten  or  fifteen  years  I  had  been  dragging  a 
heavy  chain,  with  a  huge  block  attached  to  it,  cum- 
bering my  every  motion.     I  had  felt  myself  doomed 


MEET  WITH  A  FUGITIVE  SLAVE.  337 

to  drag  this  chain  and  this  block  through  life.  AH 
efforts,  before,  to  separate  myself  from  the  liatefol  en- 
cutnbrance,  had  only  seemed  to  rivet  me  the  more 
firmly  to  it.  Baffled  and  discouraged  at  times,  I  had 
ashed  myself  the  question,  May  not  this,  after  all,  be 
God's  work  ?  May  He  not,  for  wise  ends,  have 
doomed  me  to  this  lot?  A  contest  had  been  s^oins: 
on  in  my  mind  for  years,  between  the  clear  conscious- 
ness of  right  and  the  plausible  errors  of  superstition  ; 
between  the  wisdom  of  manly  courage,  and  the  fool- 
ish weakness  of  timidity.  The  contest  "was  now 
ended  ;  the  chain  was  severed  ;  God  and  right  stood 
vindicated.  I  was  a  freeman,  and  the  voice  of  peace 
and  joy  thrilled  my  heart. 

Free  a-nd  joyous,  however,  as  I  was,  joy  was  not 
the  only  sensation  I  experienced.  It  was  like  the 
quick  blaze,  beautiful  at  the  first,  but  which  subsi- 
ding, leaves  the  building  charred  and  desolate.  I 
was  soon  taught  that  I  was  still  in  an  enemy's  land. 
A  sense  of  loneliness  and  insecurity  oppressed  me 
sadly.  I  had  been  but  a  few  hours  in  JS'ew  York, 
before  I  was  met  in  the  streets  by  a  fugitive  slave, 
well  known  to  me,  and  the  information  I  got  from 
him  respecting  New  York,  did  nothing  to  lessen  my 
appreliension  of  danger.  The  fugitive  in  question 
was  "Allender's  Jake,"  in  Baltimore;  but,  said  he, 
I  am  "  William  Dixon,"  in  'New  York !  I  knew 
Jake  well,  and  knew  wlien  Tolly  Allen der  and  Mr. 
Price  (for  the  latter  employed  Master  Hugh  as  his 
foreman,  in  his  shipyard  on  Fell's  Point)  made  an 
attempt  to  recapture  Jake,  and  failed,  Jake  told  me 
all  about  his  circumstances,  and  how  narrowly  he 
O  22 


338  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAK. 

escaped  being  taken  back  to  slavery  ;  that  the  city 
was  now  full  of  southerners,  returning  from  the 
springs  ;  that  the  black  people  in  New  York  were 
Dot  to  be  trusted  ;  that  there  were  hired  men  on  the 
lookout  for  fugitives  from  slavery,  and  who,  for  a 
few  dollars,  would  betray  me  into  the  hands  of  the 
slave-catchers:  that  I  must  tnist  no  man  with  m- 
secret ;  that  I  must  not  think  of  going  either  on  the 
wharves  to  work,  or  to  a  boarding-house  to  board ; 
and,  worse  still,  this  same  Jake  told  me  it  was  not  in 
his  power  to  help  me.  He  seemed,  even  while  cau- 
tioning me,  to  be  fearing  lest,  after  all,  I  might  be  a 
party  to  a  second  attempt  to  recapture  him.  Under 
the  inspiration  of  this  thought,  I  must  suppose  it  was, 
he  gave  signs  of  a  wish  to  get  rid  of  me,  and  soon 
left  me  —  his  whitewash  brush  in  hand  —  as  he  said, 
for  his  work.  He  was  soon  lost  to  sight  among-  the 
throng,  and  I  w^as  alone  again,  an  easy  prey  to  the 
kidnappers,  if  any  should  happen  to  be  on  my  track, 
New  York,  seventeen  years  ago,  was  less  a  place 
of  safety  for  a  runaway  slave  than  now,  and  all  know 
how  unsafe  it  now  is,  under  the  new  fugitive  slave 
bill.  I  was  much  troubled.  I  had  very  little  money 
—  enough  to  buy  me  a  few  loaves  of  bread,  but  not 
enough  to  pay  board,  outside  a  lumber  yard.  I  saw 
the  wisdom  of  keeping  away  from  the  ship  yards,  for 
if  Master  Hugh  pursued  me,  he  would  naturally  ex- 
pect to  find  me  looking  for  work  among  the  calkcr.'^. 
For  a  time,  every  door  seemed  closed  against  nii". 
A  sense  of  my  loneliness  and  helplessness  crept  over 
me,  and  covered  me  with  something:  borderinix  on 
despair.     In  the  midst  of  thousands  of  my  feUow- 


LOl^LWESS  AND  mSECtJlilTT,  839 

meiij  and  jet  a  perfect  stranger !  In  the  midst  of 
human  brothers,  and  yet  more  fearful  of  them  than 
of  hungry  wolves !  I  was  without  home,  without 
friends,  without  work,  without  mone_y,  and  without 
any  definite  knowledge  of  which  way  to  go,  or  where 
to  look  for  succor. 

Some  "apology  can  easily  be  made  for  the  few 
slaves  who  have,  after  making  good  their  escape, 
turned  back  to  slavery,  preferring  the  actual  rule  of 
their  masters,  to  the  life  of  loneliness,  apprehension, 
hunger,  and  anxiety,  which  meets  them  on  their  first 
arrival  in  a  free  state.  It  is  difiicult  for  a  freeman 
to  enter  into  the  feelin2:3  of  such  fuo-itives.  He  can- 
not  see  things  in  the  same  light  with  the  slave,  be- 
cause he  does  not,  and  cannot,  look  from  the  same 
point  from  wdiich  the  slave  does.  "Why  do  you 
tremble,"  he  says  to  the  slave  —  "  you  are  in  a  free 
state ; "  but  the  difficulty  is,  in  realizing  that  he  is  in 
a  free  state,  the  slave  might  reply.  A  freeman  can- 
not understand  why  the  slave-master's  shadow  ia 
bigger,  to  the  slave,  than  the  might  and  majesty  of 
a  free  state  ;  but  when  he  reflects  that  the  slave 
knows  more  about  the  slavery  of  his  master  than  he 
does  of  the  might  and  majesty  of  the  free  state,  he 
has  the  explanation.  The  slave  has  been  all  his  life 
learning  the  power  of  his  master  —  being  trained  to 
dread  his  approach  —  and  only  a  few  hours  learning 
the  power  of  the  state.  The  master  is  to  him  a  stern 
and  flinty  reality,  but  the  state  is  little  more  than  a 
dream.  He  has  been  accustomed  to  reirard  everv 
white  man  as  the  friend  of  his  master,  and  every  col- 
ored man  as  more  or  less  under  the  control  of  his 


/ 


340  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

master's  friends  —  the  white  people.  It  takes  stout 
nerves  to  stand  np,  in  snch  circumstances.  A  man, 
homeless,  shelterless,  breadless,  friendless,  and  mon- 
eyless, is  not  in  a  condition  to  assume  a  very  proud 
or  joyous  tone  ;  and  in  just  this  condition  was  I, 
while  wanderino;  about  the  streets  of  l^ew  York  citv 
and  lodging,  at  least  one  night,  among  the  barrels  oi 
one  of  its  wharves.  I  was  not  only  free  from  sla- 
very, but  I  was  free  from  home,  as  well.  The  reader 
will  easily  see  that  I  had  something  more  than  the 
simple  fact  of  being  free  to  think  of,  in  this  ex- 
tremity. 

I  kept  my  secret  as  long  as  I  could,  and  at  last  vv'as 
forced  to  go  in  search  of  an  honest  man  —  a  man  suf- 
iiciently  human  not  to  betray  me  into  the  hands  of 
slave-catchers.  I  was  not  a  bad  reader  of  the  human 
face,  nor  long  in  selecting  the  right  man,  when  once 
compelled  to  disclose  the  facts  of  my  condition  to 
some  one. 

I  found  my  man  in  the  person  of  one  who  said  his 
name  was  Stewart.  He  was  a  sailor,  warm-hearted 
and  generous,  and  he  listened  to  my  story  with  a 
brother's  interest.  I  told  him  I  was  running  for  my 
freedom — knev/  not  where  to  go — money  almost  gone 
— was  hungry — thought  it  unsafe  to  go  the  shipyards 
for  work,  and  needed  a  friend.  Stewart  promptly 
put  me  in  the  way  of  getting  out  of  my  trouble.  He 
took  me  to  his  house,  and  went  in  search  of  the  late 
David  Ivuggles,  who  was  then  the  secretary  of  the 
JSTew  York  Yigilance  Committee,  and  a  very  active 
man  in  all  anti-slavery  works.  Once  in  the  hands 
of  Mr.   Ruggles,  I  was  coniparati vely  safe.     1  was 


UNDER-GROUND  RAILROAD.  341 

hidden  with  Mr.  Rnggles  several  days.  In  the  mean- 
time, my  intended  wife,  Anna,  came  on  from  Balti- 
more— to  whom  I  had  written,  informing  her  of  my 
safe  arrival  at  Kew  York  —  and,  in  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Mitchell  and  Mr.  Ruggles,  we  were  married,  by 
Rev.  James  W.  C.  Pennington. 

Mr.  Riiggles  -  w^as  tlie  first  officer  on  the  nnder- 
grouiid  railroad  with  whom  I  met  after  reaching  the 
north,  and,  indeed,  the  first  of  whom  I  ever  heard 
anything.  Learning  that  I  was  a  calker  by  trade, 
he  promptly  decided  that  'New  Bedford  was  the 
proper  place  to  send  me.  "  Many  ships,"  said  he, 
"  are  there  fitted  out  for  the  whaling  business,  and 
you  may  there  find  w^ork  at  your  trade,  and  make  a 
good  living."  Thus,  in  one  fortnight  after  my  flight 
from  Maryland,  I  was  safe  in  New  Bedford,  regu- 
larly entered  upon  the  exercise  of  the  rights,  respon- 
sibilities, and  duties  of  a  freeman. 

I  may  mention  a  little  circumstance  which  an- 
noyed me  on  reaching  ISTew  Bedford.  I  had  not  a  cent 
of  money,  and  lacked  two  dollars  toward  paying  our 
fare  from  Newport,  and  our  baggage — not  very  costly 

*He  was  a  wuole-souled  man,  fully  imbued  with  a  love  of  his  af- 
flicted and  hunted  people,  and  took  pleasure  in  being  to  me,  as  was 
his  wont,  "Eyes  to  tlie  blind,  and  legs  to  the  lame."  This  brave 
and  devoted  man  suffered  much  from  the  persecutions  common  to 
all  who  have  been  prominent  benefactors.  He  at  last  became  blind, 
and  needed  a  friend  to  guide  him,  even  as  he  had  been  a  guide  to 
others.  Even  in  his  blindness,  he  exhibited  his  manl}'  cliaracter. 
In  search  of  health,  he  became  aphj'sieian.  When  hope  of  gaining 
his  own  was  gone,  he  had  hope  for  others.  Believing  in  hydro- 
pathy, he  established,  at  Northampton,  Massachusetts,  a  large 
"Water  Cure,"  and  became  one  of  the  most  successful  of  all  en* 
gaged  in  that  mode  of  treatment. 


34:2  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

—  was  taken  by  the  stage  driver,  and  held  until  I 
could  raise  the  money  to  redeem  it.  This  difficulty 
was  soon  surmounted.  Mr.  ^N^atlian  Johnson,  to 
whom  we  had  a  line  from  Mr.  Ruggles,  not  only  re- 
ceived us  kindly  and  hospitably,  but,  on  being  in- 
formed about  our  baggage,  promptly  loaned  me  two 
dollars  with  which  to  redeem  my  little  property.  I 
shall  ever  be  deeply  grateful,  both  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Nathan  Johnson,  for  the  lively  interest  they  were 
pleased  to  take  in  me,  in  this  the  hour  of  my  ex- 
tremest  need.  They  not  only  gave  myself  and  wife 
bread  and  shelter,  but  taught  us  how  to  begin  to  se- 
cure those  benefits  for  ourselves.  Long  may  they 
live,  and  may  blessings  attend  them  in  this  life  and 
in  that  which  is  to  come  ! 

Once  initiated  into  the  new  life  of  freedom,  and 
assured  by  Mr.  Johnson  that  !New  Bedford  was  a 
safe  place,  the  comparatively  unimportant  matter,  as 
to  what  should  be  my  name,  came  up  for  considera- 
tion. It  was  necessary  to  have  a  name  in  my  new 
relations.  The  name  given  me  by  my  beloved 
mother  was  no  less  pretentious  than  "Frederick  Au- 
gustus Washington  Bailey."  I  had,  however,  before 
leaving  Maryland,  dispensed  with  the  Augustus 
Washington^  and  retained  the  name  Frederich  Bai- 
ley. Between  Baltimore  and  New  Bedford,  however, 
I  had  several  different  names,  the  better  to  avoid  be- 
ing overhauled  by  the  hunters,  which  I  had  good 
reason  to  believe  would  be  put  on  my  track.  Among 
honest  men  an  honest  man  may  well  be  content  with 
one  name,  and  to  acknowledge  it  at  all  times  and  in 
all  places  ;  but  toward  fugitives,  Americans  are  not 


/. 


CHAI^GE  OF  NAME.  343 

Jionest.  When  I  arrived  at  ISTew  Bedford,  my  name 
was  Johnson;  and  finding  that  the  Johnson  family 
in  I*Tew  Bedford  were  ah-eady  quite  numerous —  suf- 
ficiently so  to  produce  some  confusion  in  attempts  to 
distinguish  one  from  another  —  there  was  the  more 
reason  for  making  another  change  in  my  name.  In 
fact,  "  Johnson"  had  been  assumed  by  nearly  every 
slave  who  had  arrived  in  JSTew  Bedford  from  Mary- 
land, and  this,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  original 
"  Johnsons "  (of  whom  there  were  many)  in  that 
place.  Mine  host,  nnwilling  to  have  another  of  his 
own  name  added  to  the  community  in  this  unauthor- 
ized way,  after  I  spent  a  night  and  a  day  at  his  house, 
gave  me  my  present  name.  He  had  been  reading 
the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  and  was  pleased  to  regard 
me  as  a  suitable  person  to  wear  this,  one  of  Scotland's 
many  famous  names.  Considering  the  noble  hospi- 
tality and  manly  character  of  l^athan  Johnson,  I  have 
felt  that  he,  better  than  I,  illustrated  the  virtues  of 
the  great  Scottish  chief.  Sure  I  am,  that  had  any 
slave-catcher  entered  his  domicile,  with  a  view  to 
molest  any  one  of  his  household,  he  would  have 
shown  himself  like  him  of  the  "  stalwart  hand." 

The  reader  will  be  amused  at  my  ignorance,  when 
I  tell  the  notions  I  had  of  the  state  of  northern  wealth, 
enterprise,  and  civilization.  Of  wealth  and  refine- 
ment, I  supposed  the  north  had  none.  My  Colum- 
bian Orator,  which  was  almost  my  only  book,  had 
not  done  much  to  enlighten  me  concerning  northern 
society.  Tlie  impressions  I  had  received  were  all 
wide  of  the  truth.  New  Bedford,  especially,  took 
me  by  surprise,  in  the  solid  wealth  and  grandeur  there 


344  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

exhibited.  I  had  formed  my  notions  respecting  the 
social  condition  of  the  free  states,  by  what  I  had  seen 
and  known  of  free,  v\'hite,  non-slavehokling  people  in 
the  slave  states.  Regarding  slavery  as  the  basis  of 
wealth,  I  fancied  that  no  people  coald  become  very 
wealthy  without  slavery.  A  free  white  man,  hold- 
ing no  slaves,  in  the  country,  I  had  known  to  be  the 
most  ignorant  and  poverty-stricken  of  men,  and  the 
lano-hinc^  stock  even  of  slaves  themselves — called  p-en- 
erally  by  them,  in  derision,  '■'poor  lohiie  trashJ^ 
Like  the  non-slaveholders  at  the  south,  in  holdino^  no 
slaves,  I  supposed  the  northern  people  like  them,  also, 
in  poverty  and  degradation.  Judge,  then,  of  my 
amazement  and  joy,  when  I  found — as  I  did  find — the 
very  laboring  population  of  ISTew  Bedford  living  in 
better  houses,  more  elegantly  furnished — surrounded 
by  more  comfort  and  refinement — than  a  majority  of 
the  slaveholders  on  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland. 
There  was  my  friend,  Mr.  Johnson,  himself  a  colored 
man,  (who  at  the  south  would  have  been  regarded  as 
a  proper  marketable  commodity,)  who  lived  in  a  bet- 
ter house — dined  at  a  richer  board — was  the  owner 
of  more  books — the  reader  of  more  newspapers — was 
more  conversant  with  the  political  and  social  condi- 
tion of  this  nation  and  the  world — than  nine-tenths 
of  all  the  slaveholders  of  Talbot  county,  Maryland. 
Yet  Mr.  Johnson  was  a  working  man,  and  his  hands 
were  hardened  by  honest  toil.  Here,  then,  was 
something  for  observation  and  study.  AYhence  the 
difference?  The  explanation  was  soon  furnished,  in 
the  superiority  of  mind  over  simple  brute  force. 
Many  pages  might  be  given  to  the  contrast,  and  in 


THE  co:ntkast.  .    345 

explanation  of  its  causes.  But  an  incident  or  two 
will  suffice  to  show  the  reader  as  to  how  the  mystery 
gradually  vanished  l)efore  me. 

My  first  afternoon,  on  reaching  Xew  Bedford,  was 
spent  in  visiting  the  wharves  and  viewing  the  ship- 
ping. The  sight  of  the  broad  brim  and  the  plain, 
Quaker  dress,  which  met  me  at  every  turn,  greatly 
increased  my  sense  of  freedom  and  security.  "  I  am 
among  the  Quakers,"  thought  I,  "  and  am  safe." 
Lying  at  the  wharves  and  riding  in  the  stream,  were 
full-rigged  ships  of  finest  model,  ready  to  start  on 
whaling  voyages.  Upon  the  right  and  the  left,  I  was 
walled  in  by  large  granite -fronted  warehouses,  crowd- 
ed with  the  p:ood  thino^s  of  this  world.  On  the 
wharves,  I  saw  industry  without  bustle,  labor  with- 
out noise,  and  heavy  toil  without  the  whip.  There 
was  no  loud  singing,  as  in  southern  ports,  where 
ships  are  loading  or  unloading — no  loud  cursing  or 
swearins: — -but  everythino^  went  on  as  smoothly  as  the 
works  of  a  well  adjusted  machine.  How  diflerent 
was  all  this  from  the  noisily  fierce  and  clumsily  ab- 
surd manner  of  labor-life  in  Baltimore  and  St.  Mi- 
chael's !  One  of  the  first  incidents  which  illustrated 
the  superior  mental  character  of  northern  labor  over 
that  of  the  south,  was  the  manner  of  unloading  a 
ship's  cargo  of  oil.  In  a  southern  port,  twenty  or 
thirty  hands  would  have  been  employed  to  do  what 
five  or  six  did  here,  v/ith  the  aid  of  a  single  ox  at- 
tached to  the  end  of  a  fall.  Main  strength,  unas- 
sisted by  skill,  is  slavery's  method  of  labor.  An  old 
ox,  worth  eighty  dollars,  was  doing,  in  New  Bedf:>rd, 
what  would  have  required  fifteen  thousand  dollars 


SIQ  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

worth  of  liuman  bones  and  muscles  to  have  performed 
^in  a  southern  port.  I  found  that  everything  was 
^done  here  with  a  scrupulous  regard  to  economy,  both 
in  rescard  to  men  and  thino^s,  time  and  streno-th.  Tlie 
maid  servant,  instead  of  spending  at  least  a  tenth 
part  of  her  time  in  bringing  and  carrying  water,  as 
in  Baltimore,  had  the  pump  at  her  elbow.  The  wood 
was  dry,  and  snugly  piled  away  for  winter.  Wood- 
houses,  in-door  pumps,  sinks,  drains,  self-shutting 
gates,  washing  machines,  pounding  barrels,  were  all 
new  thino;3,  and  told  me  that  I  was  amons:  a  thouo-ht- 
ful  and  sensible  people.  To  the  ship-repairing  dock 
I  went,  and  saw  the  same  wise  prudence.  The  car- 
penters struck  where  they  aimed,  and  the  calkers 
wasted  no  blows  in  idle  flourishes  of  the  mallet.  I 
learned  that  men  went  from  ISTew  Bedford  to  Balti- 
more, and  bought  old  ships,  and  brought  them  here 
to  repair,  and  made  them  better  and  more  valuable 
than  they  ever  were  before.  Men  talked  here  of  go- 
ing whaling  on  a  four  years^  voyage  with  more  cool- 
ness than  sailors  where  I  came  from  talked  of  ffoinaj 
a  four  Quonths^  vova^^e. 

I  now  find  that  I  could  have  landed  in  no  part  of 
the  United  States,  where  I  should  have  found  a  more 
striking  and  gratifying  contrast  to  the  condition  of  the 
free  people  of  color  in  Baltimore,  than  I  found  here 
in  ISTew  Bedford.  Ko  colored  man  is  really  free  in 
a  slaveholding  state.  He  wears  the  badge  of  bond- 
age while  nominally  free,  and  is  often  subjected  to 
hardships  to  which  the  slave  is  a  stranger ;  but  here 
in  Kew  Bedford,  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  see  a 
pretty  near  approach  to  freedom  on  the  part  of  tlie 


COLORED  PEOPLE  IN  NEW  BEDFORD.        34-7 

colored  people.  I  was  ta-ken  all  aback  wlien  Mr. 
Johnson — who  lost  no  time  in  making  nie  acquainted 
with  the  fact — told  me  that  there  was  nothing  in  the 
constitution  of  Massachusetts  to  prevent  a  colored 
man  from  holding  any  otlice  in  the  state.  There,  in 
Xew  Bedford,  the  black  man's  children  —  although 
anti-slavery  was  then  far  from  popular  —  went  to 
school  side  by  side  with  the  white  children,  and  ap- 
parently without  objection  from  any  quarter.  To 
make  me  at  home,  Mr.  Johnson  assured  me  that  no 
slaveholder  could  take  a  slave  from  N^ew  Bedford  ; 
that  there  were  men  there  who  would  lay  down  their 
lives,  before  such  an  outrage  could  be  perpetrated. 
The  colored  people  themselves  were  of  the  best  metal, 
and  w^ould  fight  for  liberty  to  the  death. 

Soon  after  my  arrival  in  New  Bedford,  I  was  told 
the  following  story,  which  was  said  to  illustrate  the 
spirit  of  the  colored  people  in  that  goodly  town  :  A 
colored  man  and  a  fugitive  slave  happened  to  have  a 
little  quarrel,  and  the  former  was  heard  to  threaten 
the  latter  with  informing  his  master  of  his  wherea- 
bouts. As  soon  as  this  threat  became  known,  a  no- 
tice was  read  from  the  desk  of  what  was  then  the 
only  colored  church  in  the  place,  stating  that  business 
of  importance  was  to  be  then  and  there  transacted. 
Special  measures  had  been  taken  to  secure  the  attend- 
ance of  the  would-be  Judas,  and  had  proved  success- 
ful. Accordingly,  at  the  hour  appointed,  the  people 
came,  and  the  betrayer  also.  All  the  usual  formali- 
ties of  i^^l^lic  meetings  were  scrupulously  gone 
through,  even  to  the  offering  prayer  for  Divine  direc- 
tion in  the  duties  of  the  occasion.     The  president 


o 


43  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 


himself  performed  tliis  part  of  the  ceremony,  and  I  was 
told  that  lie  was  nnnsually  ferv^ent.  Ye<:,  at  the  close 
of  his  prayer,  the  old  man  (one  of  the  niimerons  fam- 
ily of  Johnsons)  rose  from  his  knees,  deliberately  sur- 
veyed his  audience,  and  then  said,  in  a  tone  of  sol- 
emn resolution,  "  Well,  friends,  we  have  got  Jiim  here, 
and  I  icoidd  now  recommend  that  yoit  young  men 
shoidd  just  take  him  outside  the  door  arid  Mil  himP 
With  this,  a  large  body  of  the  congregation,  who 
well  understood  the  business  they  had  come  there  to 
transact,  made  a  rush  at  the  villain,  and  doubtless 
would  have  killed  him,  had  he  not  availed  himself 
of  an  open  sash,  and  made  good  his  escape.  He  has 
never  shown  his  head  in  New  Bedford  since  that 
time.  This  little  incident  is  perfectly  characteristic 
of  the  spirit  of  the  colored  people  in  New  Bedford. 
A  slave  could  not  be  taken  from  that  town  seventeen 
years  ago,  any  more  than  he  could  be  so  taken  away 
'  now.  The  reason  is,  that  the  colored  people  in  that 
citv  are  educated  up  to  the  point  of  fio^htin":  for  their 
freedom,  as  well  as  speaking  for  it. 

Once  assured  of  my  safety  in  New  Bedford,  I  put 
on  the  habiliments  of  a  couimon  laborer,  and  went 
on  the  wharf  in  search  of  work.  I  had  no  notion  of 
living  on  the  honest  and  generous  sympathy  of  my 
colored  brother,  Johnson,  or  that  of  the  abolitionists. 
My  cry  was  like  that  of  Hood's  laborer,  "  Oh  !  only 
give  me  work."  Happily  for  me,  I  was  not  long  in 
searching.  I  found  employment,  the  third  day  after 
my  arrival  in  New  Bedford,  in  stowing  a  sloop  with 
a  l(jad  of  oil  for  the  New  York  market.  It  was  new, 
hardj  and  dirty  work,  even  for  a  calker,  but  I  went 


DENIED  WORK  AT  MY  TKADE.  349 

at  it  witli  a  s-lad  heart  and  a  willlno;  hand.     I  was 
now  mv  own  master  —  a  tremendous  fact  —  and  the 
rapturous  excitement  with  which  I  seized   the  job, 
may  not  easily  be  understood,  exce]:)t  by  some  one 
with    an    experience    something    like    mine.      The 
thouc^hts  —  "  I  can  Avork  !     I  can  Vvairk  for  a  livin^' ; 
I  am  not  afraid  of  work ;  I  have  no  Master  Hugh  to 
rob  me  of  my  earnings" — placed   me  in  a  state  of 
independence,  beyond  seeking  friendship  or  support 
of  any  man.     That  day's  work  I  considered  the  real 
starting  point  of  something   like   a  new   existence. 
Having  finished  this  job   and  got  my   pay  for  the 
same,  I  went  next  in  pursuit  of  a  job  at  calking.     It 
so  happened  that  Mr.  Rodney  French,  late  mayor  of 
the  city  of  New  Bedford,  had  a  ship  fitting  out  for 
sea,  and  to  which  there  w^as  a  large  job  of  calking 
and  coppering  to  be  done.     I  applied  to  that  noble- 
hearted  man  for  employment,  and  he  promptly  told  m^e 
to  go  to  work  ;  but  going  on  the  float-stage  for  the 
purpose,  I  was  informed  that  every  white  man  would 
leave  the  ship  if  I  struck  a  blow  upon  her.     "  Weil, 
well,"  thought  I,  "  this  is  a  hardship,  but  yet  not  a 
very  serious  one  for  me."     The  difference  between 
the  wages  of  a  calker  and  that  of  a  common  day  la- 
borer, was   an   hundred    ^er  cent,   in   favor  of  the 
former  ;  but  then  I  was  free,  and  free  to  work,  though 
not  at  my  trade.     I  now  prepared  myself  to  do  any- 
thing which  came  to  hand  in  the  way  of  turning  an 
honest  penny  ;  sawed  wood — dug  cellars — shoveled 
coal — swept  chimneys  with  Uncle  Lucas  Debuty — ■ 
rolled  oil  casks  on  the  wharves — ^lielped  to  load  and 
unload  vessels — worked  in  E-icketson's  candle  works 


350  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

— in  Richmond's  brass  foimderj,  and  elsewhere  ;  find 
thus  supported  myself  and  family  for  three  years. 

The  first  winter  was  unusually  severe,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  higli  prices  of  food ;  but  even  during 
that  winter  we  probably  suffered  less  than  many 
who  had  been  free  all  their  lives.  Durin<x  the  hard- 
est  of  the  winter,  I  hired  out  for  nine  dollars  a  month ; 
and  out  of  this  rented  two  rooms  for  nine  dollars  per 
quarter,  and  supplied  my  w^ife— who  was  unable  to 
work — with  food  and  some  necessary  articles  of  fur- 
nitm-e.  We  vrere  closely  pinched  to  bring  our  wants 
within  our  means;  but  the  jail  stood  over  the  way, 
and  I  had  a  wholesome  dread  of  the  consequences  of 
running  in  debt.  This  winter  past,  and  I  was  up 
with  the  times — ^got  plenty  of  work  — got  well  paid 
for  it — and  felt  that  I  had  not  done  a  foolish  thins:  to 
leave  Master  Hugh  and  Master  Thomas.  I  was  now 
living  in  a  new  world,  and  w^as  wide  awake  to  its  ad- 
vantages. I  early  began  to  attend  the  meetings  of 
the  colored  people  of  l^ew  Bedford,  and  to  take  part 
in  them.  I  was  somewhat  amazed  to  see  colored 
men  drawing  up  resolutions  and  offering  them  for 
consideration.  Several  colored  young  men  of  New 
Bedford,  at  that  period,  gave  promise  of  great  useful- 
ness. They  were  educated,  and  possessed  what 
seemed  to  me,  at  that  time,  very  superior  talents. 
Some  of  them  have  been  cut  down  by  death,  and 
others  have  removed  to  different  parts  of  tlie  world, 
and  some  remain  there  now,  and  justify,  in  their 
present  activities,  my  early  impressions  of  tliem. 

Among  my  first  concerns  on  reaching  ]^ew  Bed- 
ford, was  to  become  united  with  the  church,  for  I  had 


THE  CHUKCH.  351 

never  given  up,  in  reality,  my  religions  faith.  I  had" 
become  lukewarm  and  in  a  backslidden  state,  but  I 
was  still  convinced  that  it  was  my  duty  to  join  the 
Methodist  church.  I  was  not  then  aware  of  the  pow- 
erful influence  of  that  religious  body  in  favor  of  the 
enslavement  of  my  race,  nor  did  I  see  how  the  north- 
ern churches  could  be  responsible  for  the  conduct  of 
southern  churches  ;  neither  did  I  fully  understand 
how  it  could  be  my  duty  to  remain  separate  from  the 
cliurch,  because  bad  men  were  connected  with  it. 
The  slaveholding  chnrch,  with  its  Coveys,  Weedens, 
Aulds,  and  Hopkins,  I  could  see  through  at  once, 
but  I  could  not  see  how  Elm  Street  church,  in  'New 
Bedford,  could  be  regarded  as  sanctioning  the  Chris- 
tianity of  these  characters  in  the  church  at  St.  Mi- 
chael's. I  therefore  resolved  to  join  the  Methodist 
church  in  Xew  Bedford,  and  to  enjoy  the  spiritual 
advantage  of  public  worship.  The  minister  of  the 
Elm  Street  Methodist  chnrch,  was  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bon- 
ney  ;  and  although  I  was  not  allowed  a  seat  in  the 
body  of  the  house,  and  was  proscribed  on  account  of 
my  color,  regarding  this  proscription  simply  as  an 
accommodation  of  the  nncon verted  conc^ref]:ation  who 
had  not  yet  been  won  to  Christ  and  his  brotherhood, 
I  was  willing  thus  to  be  proscribed,  lest  sinners 
should  be  driven  away  from  the  saving  power  of  the 
gospel.  Once  converted,  I  thought  they  would  be 
sure  to  treat  me  as  a  man  and  a  brother.  "  Surely," 
thought  I,  "  these  christian  people  have  none  of  this 
feeling  against  color.  They,  at  least,  have  renounced 
this  unholy  feeling."  Judge,  then,  dear  reader,  of 
my  astonishment  and  mortihcation,  when  I  found,  as 


852  LIFE  A3  A  FREEMAN. 

soon  I  did  find,  all  my  charitable  assumptions  at 
fault. 

An  opportunity  was  soon  afforded  me  for  ascer- 
taining the  exact  position  of  Elm  Street  cluircli  on 
that  subject.  I  had  a  chance  of  seeing  the  religious 
part  of  the  congregation  by  themselves ;  and  al- 
though they  disowned,  in  effect,  their  black  brothers 
and  sisters,  before  the  world,  I  did  think  that  where 
none  but  the  saints  were  assembled,  and  no  offense 
could  be  given  to  the  wicked,  and  the  gospel  could 
not  be  "  blamed,"  they  would  certainly  recognize  us 
as  children  of  the  same  Father,  and  heirs  of  the  same 
salvation,  on  equal  terms  with  themselves. 

The  occasion  to  which  I  refer,  was  the  sacrament 
of  the  Lord's  Supper,  that  most  sacred  and  most  sol- 
emn of  all  the  ordinances  of  the  christian  church. 
Mr.  Bonney  had  preached  a  very  solemn  and  search- 
ing discourse,  which  really  proved  him  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  inmost  secrets  of  the  human  heart. 
At  the  close  of  his  discourse,  the  congregation  was 
dismissed,  and  the  church  remained  to  partake  of  the 
sacrament.  I  remained  to  see,  as  I  thought,  this 
holy  sacrament  celebrated  in  the  spirit  of  its  great 
Founder. 

There  were  only  about  a  half  dozen  colored  mem 
bers  attached  to  the  Elm  Street  church,  at  this  time. 
After  the  congregation  was  dismissed,  these  de- 
scended from  the  gallery,  and  took  a  seat  against  the 
wall  most  distant  from  the  altar.  Brother  Bonney 
was  very  animated,  and  sung  very  sweetly,  "  Salva- 
tion 'tis  a  joyful  sound,"  and  soon  began  to  adminis- 
ter the  sacrament.     I  was  anxious  to  observe  the 


THE  SACRAMENT.  353 

bearing  of  tlie  colored  members,  and  tiie  result  was 
most  humiliating.  During  tlie  whole  ceremony,  they 
looked  like  sheep  without  a  shepherd.  The  white 
members  went  forward  to  the  altar  bv  the  bench  full ; 
and  when  it  was  evident  that  all  the  whites  had  been 
served  wdth  the  bread  and  wine,  Brother  Bonney — 
pious  Brother  Bonney  —  after  a  long  pause,  as  if  in- 
quiring whether  all  the  white  members  had  been 
served,  and  fully  assuring  himself  on  that  important 
point,  then  raised  his  voice  to  an  unnatural  pitch, 
and  looking  to  the  corner  where  his  black  sheep 
seemed  penned,  beckoned  wdth  his  hand,  exclaiming, 
"  Come  forward,  colored  friends  !  —  come  forward ! 
You,  too,  have  an  interest  in  the  blood  of  Christ. 
God  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  Come  forward,  and 
take  this  holy  sacrament  to  your  comfort."  The  col- 
ored members — poor,  slavish  souls — went  forward,  as 
invited.  I  went  out^  and  have  never  been  in  that 
church  since,  although  I  honestly  went  there  with  a 
view  to  joining  that  body.  I  found  it  impossible  to 
respect  the  religious  profession  of  any  who  were  un- 
der the  dominion  of  this  wicked  prejudice,  and  I 
could  not,  therefore,  feel  that  in  joining  them,  I  was 
joining  a  christian  church,  at  all.  I  tried  other 
churches  in  ISTew  Bedford,  with  the  same  result,  and, 
finally,  I  attached  myself  to  a  small  body  of  colored 
Methodists,  known  as  the  Zion  Methodists.  Favored 
with  the  affection  and  confidence  of  the  members  of 
this  humble  communion,  I  was  soon  made  a  class- 
leader  and  a  local  preacher  among  them.  Many 
seasons  of  peace  and  joy  I  experienced  among  them, 
the  remembrance  of  which  is  still  precious,  although 

23 


354:      •  LIFE  AS  A  FKEEMAN. 

I  could  not  see  it  to  be  my  duty  to  remain  with  that 
body,  wlien  I  found  that  it  consented  to  the  same 
spirit  which  held  my  brethren  in  chains. 

Li  four  or  five  months  after  reaching  iSTew  Bedford, 
there  came  a  young  man  to  me,  with  a  copy  of  the 
"  Liberator,"  the  paper  edited  by  William  Lloyd  Gar- 
KisoN,  and  published  by  Isaac  Knapp,  and  asked  me 
to  subscribe  for  it.  I  told  him  I  had  but  just  escaped 
from  slavery,  and  was  of  course  very  poor,  and  re- 
marked further,  that  I  was  unable  to  pay  for  it  then  ; 
the  agent,  however,  very  willingly  took  me  as  a  sub- 
scriber, and  appeared  to  be  much  pleased  with  secu- 
ring my  name  to  his  list.  From  this  time  I  was 
brought  in  contact  with  the  mind  of  AYilliam  Lloyd 
Garrison.  His  paper  took  its  place  with  me  next  to 
the  bible. 

The  Liberator  was  a  paper  after  my  own  heart. 
It  detested  slavery — exposed  hypocrisy  and  wicked- 
ness in  high  places  —  made  no  truce  with  the  traf- 
fickers in  the  bodies  and  souls  of  men ;  it  preached  hu- 
man brotherhood,  denounced  oppression,  and,  with 
all  the  solemnity  of  God's  word,  demanded  the  com- 
plete emancipation  of  my  race.  I  not  only  liked  —  I 
loved  this  paper,  and  its  editor.  He  seemed  a  match 
for  all  the  opponents  of  emancipation,  whether  they 
spoke  in  the  name  of  the  law,  or  the  gospel.  His 
words  were  few,  full  of  holy  fire,  and  straight  to  the 
point.  Learning  to  love  him,  through  his  paper,  I 
was  prepared  to  be  pleased  with  his  presence.  Some- 
thing of  a  hero  worshiper,  by  nature,  here  was  one, 
on  first  sight,  to  excite  my  love  and  reverence. 

Seventeen  years  ago,  few  men  possessed   a  more 


THE  LIBERATOR  AND  ITS  EDITOR.  355 

heavenly  countenance  tlian  William  Llojcl  Garrison, 
and  few  men  evinced  a  more  genuine  or  a  more  ex- 
alted piety.  The  bible  was  his  text  book  —  held  sa- 
cred, as  the  word  of  the  Eternal  Father — sinless  per- 
fection— complete  submission  to  insults  and  injuries 
—  literal  obedience  to  the  injunction,  if  smitten  on 
one  side  to  turn  the  other  also,  ^ot  only  was  Sunday 
a  Sabbath,  but  all  days  were  Sabbaths,  and  to  be  kept 
holy.  All  sectarism  false  and  mischievous  —  the 
regenerated,  throughout  the  world,  members  of  one 
body,  and  the  Head  Christ  Jesus.  Prejudice  against 
color  was  rebellion  against  God.  Of  all  men  beneath 
the  sky,  the  slaves,  because  most  neglected  and  des- 
pised, were  nearest  and  dearest  to  his  great  heart. 
Those  ministers  who  defended  slavery  from  the  bi- 
ble, were  of  their  "father  the  devil;"  and  those 
churches  which  fellowshiped  slaveholders  as  chris- 
tians, were  synagogues  of  Satan,  and  our  nation  was 
a  nation  of  liars.  Xever  loud  or  noisy — calm  and 
serene  as  a  summer  sky,  and  as  pure.  "  You  are  the 
man,  the  Moses,  raised  up  by  God,  to  deliver  his 
modern  Israel  from  bondage,"  w^as  the  spontaneous 
feeling  of  my  heart,  as  I  sat  away  back  in  the  hall 
and  listened  to  his  mighty  words  ;  mighty  in  truth — 
mighty  in  their  simple  earnestness. 

I  had  not  long  been  a  reader. of  the  Liberator,  and 
listener  to  its  editor,  before  I  got  a. clear  apprehen- 
sion of  the  principles  of  the  anti-slavery  movement. 
I  had  already  the  spirit  of  the  movement,  and  only 
needed  to  understand  its  principles  and  measures. 
These  I  got  "from  the  Liberator,  and  from  those  who 
believed  in  that  paper.     My  acquaintance  with  the 


366  LIFE  AS  A  FKEEMAN. 

movement  increased  mj  hope  for  the  ultimate  free- 
dom of  my  race,  and  I  united  with  it  from  a  sense  of 
delight,  as  well  as  duty. 

Every  week  the  Liberator  came,  and  every  week  I 
made  myself  master  of  its  contents.  All  the  anti- 
slavery  meetings  held  in  I^ew  Bedford  I  promptly 
attended,  my  heart  burning  at  every  true  utterance 
against  the  slave  system,  and  every  rebuke  of  its 
friends  and  supporters.  Thus  passed  the  first  three 
years  of  my  residence  in  ISlew  Bedford.  I  had  not 
then  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  my  becoming  a 
public  advocate  of  the  cause  so  deeply  imbedded  in 
my  heart.  It  was  enough  for  me  to  listen  —  to  re- 
ceive and  applaud  the  great  words  of  others,  and  only 
whisper  in  private,  among  the  white  laborers  on  the 
wharves,  and  elsewhere,  the  truths  which  burned  in 
my  breast. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INTRODUCED  TO  THE  ABOLITIONISTS. 

FIRST    SPEECH    AT    NANTUCKET MUCH    SENSATION EXTRAORDINARY  SPEECH 

OF  MR.  GARRISON AUTHOR    BECOMES    A    PUBLIC   LECTURER FOURTEEN 

years'  EXPERIENCE YOUTHFUL  ENTHUSIASM A  BRAND  NEW  FACT MAT- 
TER OF  THE  author's  SPEECH HE  COULD  NOT  FOLLOW  THE  PROGRAMME 

HIS  FUGITIVE  SLAVESHIP  DOUBTED TO  SETTLE  ALL  DOUBT  HE  Y/RITES  HIS 

EXPERIENCE  OF  SLAVERY DANGER  OF  RECAPTURE  INCREASED. 

In  the  summer  of  ISll,  a  grand  anti-slavery  con- 
vention was  lield  in  Xantucket,  under  the  auspices 
of  Mr.  Garrison  and  his  friends.  Until  now,  I  had 
taken  no  holiday  since  my  escape  from  slavery. 
Having  worked  very  hard  that  spring  and  summer, 
in  Eichmond's  brass  foundery — sometimes  working  all 
night  as  well  as  all  day  —  and  needing  a  day  or  two 
of  rest,  I  attended  this  convention,  never  supposing 
that  I  should  take  part  in  the  proceedings.  Indeed, 
I  was  not  aware  that  any  one  connected  with  the  con- 
vention even  so  much  as  knew  my  name.  I  was,  how- 
ever, quite  mistaken.  Mr.  William  C.  Coffin,  a  prom- 
inent abolitionist  in  those  days  of  trial,  had  heard  me 
speaking  to  my  colored  friends,  in  the  little  school- 
house  on  Second  street,  Xew  Bedford,  where  we  wor- 
shiped. He  sought  me  out  in  the  crowd,  and  invited 
me  to  say  a  few  words  to  the  convention.  Thus 
sought  out,  and  thus  invited,  I  was  induced  to  speak 


358  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

out  tlie  feelings  inspired  by  tlie  occasion,  and  the 
fresh  recollection  of  the  scenes  through  which  I  had 
passed  as  a  slave.  Mj  speech  on  this  occasion  is 
about  the  only  one  I  ever  made,  of  which  I  do  not 
remember  a  sinMe  connected  sentence.  It  w^as  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  I  could  stand  erect,  or  that 
I  could  command  and  articulate  two  words  without 
hesitation  and  stammering.  I  trembled  in  every 
limb.  I  am  not  sure  that  my  embarrassment  was  not 
the  most  effective  part  of  my  speech,  if  speech  it 
could  be  called.  At  any  rate,  this  is  about  the  only 
part  of  my  performance  that  I  now  distinctly  remem- 
ber. But  excited  and  convulsed  as  I  was,  the  audi- 
ence, though  remarkably  quiet  before,  became  as 
much  excited  as  myself.  Mr.  Garrison  followed  me, 
taking  me  as  his  text ;  and  now,  whether  I  had  made 
an  eloquent  speech  in  behalf  of  freedom  or  not,  his 
was  one  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who  heard  it. 
Those  who  had  heard  Mr.  Garrison  oftenest,  and  had 
known  him  longest,  vrere  astonished.  It  was  an  ef- 
fort of  unequaled  power,  sweeping  down,  like  a  very 
tornado,  every  opposing  barrier,  whether  of  senti- 
ment or  opinion.  For  a  moment,  he  possessed  that 
almost  fabulous  inspiration,  often  referred  to  but  sel- 
dom attained,  in  which  a  public  meeting  is  trans- 
formed, as  it  were,  into  a  single  individuality  —  the 
orator  wielding  a  thousand  heads  and  hearts  at  once, 
and  by  the  simple  majesty  of  his  all  controlling 
thought,  converting  his  hearers  into  the  express  im- 
SLo^e  of  his  own  soul.  That  ni2:ht  there  were  at  least 
one  thousand  Garrisonians  in  ^Nantucket !  At  the 
close  of  this  great  meeting,  I  was  duly  waited  on  by 


AN  AGENT  AND  LECTURER.  359 

Mr.  John  A.  Collins  —  tlien  the  general  agent  of  the 
Massachusetts  anti-slavery  society — and  urgently  so- 
licited by  him  to  become  an  agent  of  that  society, 
and  to  publicly  advocate  its  anti-slavery  principles. 
I  was  reluctant  to  take  the  proffered  position.  I  had 
not  been  quite  three  years  from  slavery  —  was  hon- 
estly distrustful  of  my  ability — wished  to  be  excused ; 
publicity  exposed  me  to  discovery  and  arrest  by  my 
master ;  and  other  objections  came  up,  but  Mr.  Col- 
lins was  not  to  be  put  off',  and  I  finally  consented  to 
go  out  for  three  months,  for  I  supposed  that  I  should 
have  got  to  the  end  of  my  story  and  my  usefulness, 
in  that  length  of  time. 

Here  opened  upon  me  a  new  life — a  life  for  which 
I  had  had  no  preparation.  I  was  a  "  graduate  from 
the  peculiar  institution,"  Mr.  Collins  used  to  say, 
when  introducing  me,  "  with  my  dijploma  loritten  on 
my  hach  !  "  The  three  years  of  my  freedom  had  been 
spent  in  the  hard  school  of  adversity.  My  hands 
had  been  furnished  by  nature  with  something  like  a 
solid  leather  coating,  and  I  had  bravely  marked  out 
for  myself  a  life  of  rough  labor,  suited  to  the  hard- 
ness of  my  hands,  as  a  means  of  supporting  myself 
and  rearing  my  children. 

Now  what  shall  I  say  of  this  fourteen  years'  expe- 
rience as  a  public  advocate  of  the  cause  of  my  en- 
slaved brothers  and  sisters?  The  time  is  but  as  a 
speck,  yet  large  enough  to  justify  a  pause  for  retro- 
spection— and  a  pause  it  must  only  be. 

Young,  ardent,  and  hopeful,  I  entered  upon  this' 
new  life  in  the  full  gush  of  unsuspecting  enthusiasm. 
The  cause  was  good  ;  the  men  engaged  in  it  were 


8G0  LIFE   AS  A  FKEEMAN. 

good  ;  the  means  to  attain  its  triiimph,  good  ;  Heav- 
en's blessing  must  attend  all,  and  freedom  must  soon 
be  given  to  the  pining  millions  under  a  ruthless  bon- 
dage. My  whole  heart  went  with  the  holy  cause,  and 
my  most  fervent  prayer  to  the  Almighty  Disposer  of 
the  hearts  of  men,  were  continually  offered  for  its 
early  triumph.  "  Who  or  what,"  thought  I,  "  can 
withstand  a  cause  so  good,  so  holy,  so  indescribably 
glorious.  The  God  of  Israel  is  with  us.  The  might 
of  the  Eternal  is  on  our  side.  jN'ow  let  but  the  truth 
be  spoken,  and  a  nation  will  start  forth  at  the  sound !  " 
In  this  enthusiastic  spirit,  I  dropped  into  the  ranks  of 
freedom's  friends,  and  went  forth  to  the  battle.  For 
a  time  I  was  made  to  forget  that  my  skin  was  dark 
and  my  hair  crisped.  For  a  time  I  regretted  that  I 
could  not  have  shared  the  hardships  and  dangers  en- 
dured by  the  earlier  workers  for  the  slave's  release.  I 
soon,  however,  found  that  my  enthusiasm  had  been 
extravagant ;  that  hardships  and  dangers  were  not 
yet  passed ;  and  that  the  life  now  before  me,  had 
shadows  as  well  as  sunbeams. 

Among  the  first  duties  assigned  me,  on  entering 
the  ranks,  was  to  travel,  in  company  vvith  Mr.  George 
Foster,  to  secure  subscribers  to  the  "Anti-slavery 
Standard"  and  the  "Liberator."  With  him  I  trav- 
eled and  lectured  through  the  eastern  counties  of 
Massachusetts.  Much  interest  was  awakened — large 
meetings  assembled.  Many  came,  no  doubt,  from 
curiosity  to  hear  what  a  negro  could  say  in  his  own 
cause.  I  was  generally  introduced  as  a  "  chattel " — 
a  "  thing  "  —  a  piece  of  southern  ''^ ])roperty  "  —  the 
chairman  assuring  the  audience  that  it  could  speak. 


MATTER  OF  THE  SPEECH.    .  361 

Fugitive  slaves,  at  that  time,  were  not  so  plentiful  as 
now  ;  and  as  a  fugitive  slave  lecturer,  I  liacl  the  ad- 
vantage of  being  a  "  hrand  neio  fact  " — the  first  one 
out.     Up  to  that  time,  a  colored  man  was  deemed  a 
fool  who  confessed  himself  a  runaway  slave,  not  only 
because  of  the  danger  to  which  he  exposed  himself 
of  being  retaken,  but  because  it  was  a  confession  of 
a  very  loio  origin !     Some  of  my  colored  friends  in 
!N"ew  Bedford  thought  very  badly  of  my  wisdom  for 
thus  exposing  and  degrading  myself.     The  only  pre- 
caution I  took,  at  the  beginning,  to  prevent  Master 
Thomas  from  knowing  where  I  was,  and  what  I  was 
about,  was  the  withholding   my   former   name,  my 
master's  name,  and  the  name  of  the  state  and  county 
from  which  I  came.     Durino;  the  first  three  or  four 
months,  my  speeches  were  almost  exclusively  made 
up  of  narrations  of  my  own  personal  experience  as  a 
slave.     "  Let  us  have  the  facts,"  said  the  people.     So 
also  said  Friend  George  Foster,  who  always  wished 
to  pin  me  down  to  my  simple  narrative.     "  Give  us 
the  facts,"  said  Collins,   "  we  will  take  care  of  the 
philosophy."     Just  here  arose  some  embarrassment. 
It  was  impossible  for  me  to  repeat  the  same  old  story 
month  after  month,  and  to  keep  up  my  interest  in  it. 
It  was  new  to  the  people,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  an  old 
story  to  me  ;  and  to  go  through  with  it  night  after 
night,  was  a  task  altogether  too  mechanical  for  my 
nature.     "  Tell  your  story,  Frederick,"  would  whis- 
per my  then  revered  friend,  William  Lloyd  Garrison, 
as  I  stepped  npon  the  platform.     I  could  not  always 
^bey,  for  I  was  now  reading  and  thinking.     ISTew 
Vv  "»,ws  of  the  subject  were  presented  to  my  mind.     It 
P 


S62  LITE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

Qid  not  entirely  satisfy  me  to  narrate  wrongs  ;  I  felt 
like  denouncing  them.  I  could  not  always  curb  my 
moral  indignation  for  the  perpetrators  of  slavehold- 
ing  villainy,  long  enough  for  a  circumstantial  state- 
ment of  the  facts  which  I  felt  almost  everybody  must 
know.  Besides,  I  was  growing,  and  needed  room. 
"  People  won't  believe  you  ever  was  a  slave,  Freder- 
ick, if  you  keep  on  this  way,"  said  Friend  Foster. 
''  Be  yourself,"  said  Collins,  "  and  tell  your  story." 
It  was  said  to  me,  "  Better  have  a  little  of  the  plan- 
tation manner  of  speech  than  not ;  'tis  not  best  that 
you  seem  too  learned."  These  excellent  friends  were 
actuated  by  the  best  of  motives,  and  were  not  alto- 
gether wrong  in  their  advice  ;  and  still  I  must  speak 
just  the  word  that  seemed  to  'nie  the  word  to  be  spo- 
ken hy  me. 

At  last  the  apprehended  trouble  came.  People 
doubted  if  I  had  ever  been  a  slave.  They  said  I  did 
not  talk  like  a  slave,  look  like  a  slave,  nor  act  like  a 
slave,  and  that  they  believed  I  had  never  been  south 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  "  He  don't  tell  us  where 
he  came  from — what  his  master's  name  was — ^how  he 
got  away — nor  the  story  of  his  experience.  Besides, 
he  is  educated,  and  is,  in  this,  a  contradiction  of  all 
the  facts  we  have  concerning  the  ignorance  of  the 
slaves."  Thus,  I  was  in  a  pretty  fair  way  to  be  de- 
nounced as  an  impostor.  The  committee  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts anti-slavery  society  knew  all  the  facts  in  my 
case,  and  agreed  with  me  in  the  prudence  of  keeping 
them  private.  They,  therefore,  never  doubted  my 
being  a  genuine  fugitive ;  but  going  down  the  aisles 
,of  the  churches  in  which  I  spoke,  and  hearing  the 


DANGER  OF  RECAPTURE.  363 

free  spoken  Yankees  sajing,  repeatedly,  ''  He^s  never 
heen  a  slave^  Vll  loarrant  y^,"  I  resolved  to  dispel  all 
doubt,  at  no  distant  day,  by  such  a  revelation  of  facts 
as  could  not  be  made  by  any  other  than  a  genuine 
fugitive. 

In  a  little  less  than  four  years,  therefore,  after  be- 
coming a  public  lecturer,  I  was  induced  to  write  out 
the  leading  facts  connected  with  my  experience  in 
slavery,  giving  names  of  persons,  places,  and  dates — 
thus  putting  it  in  the  power  of  any  who  doubted,  to 
ascertain  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  my  story  of  being 
a  fugitive  slave.  This  statement  soon  became  known 
in  Maryland,  and  I  had  reason  to  believe  that  an  ef- 
fort would  be  made  to  recapture  me. 

It  is  not  probable  that  any  open  attempt  to  secure 
me  as  a  slave  could  have  succeeded,  further  than  the 
obtaimnent,  by  my  master,  of  the  money  value  of 
my  bones  and  sinews.  Fortunately  for  me,  in  the 
four  years  of  my  labors  in  the  abolition  cause,  I  had 
gained  many  friends,  who  would  have  suffered  them- 
selves to  be  taxed  to  almost  any  extent  to  save  me 
from  slavery.  It  was  felt  that  I  had  committed  the 
double  offense  of  running  away,  and  exposing  the  se- 
crets and  crimes  of  slavery  and  slaveholders.  There 
was  a  double  motive  for  seeking  my  reenslavement — 
avarice  and  vengeance ;  and  while,  as  I  have  said, 
there  was  little  probability  of  successful  recapture, 
if  attempted  openly,  I  was  constantly  in  danger  of 
being  spirited  away,  at  a  moment  when  my  friends 
could  render  me  no  assistance.  In  traveling  about 
from  place  to  place  —  often  alone  —  I  was  much  ex- 
posed to  this  sort  of  attack.     Any  one  cherishing  the 


S64:  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

design  to  betray  me,  could  easily  do  so,  by  simply  tra- 
cing my  wliereaboiits  tlirongli  the  anti-slavery  journals, 
for  my  meetings  and  movements  were  promptly  made 
known  in  advance.  My  true  friends,  Mr.  Garrison 
and  Mr.  Phillips,  had  no  faith  in  the  power  of  Massa- 
chusetts to  protect  me  in  my  right  to  liberty.  Public 
sentiment  and  the  law,  in  their  opinion,  would  liand 
me  over  to  the  tormentors.  Mr.  Phillips,  especially, 
considered  me  in  danger,  and  said,  when  I  showed 
him  the  manuscript  of  my  story,  if  in  my  place,  he 
would  throw  it  into  the  fire.  Thus,  the  reader  will 
observe,  the  settling  of  one  difficulty  only  opened  the 
way  for  another ;  and  that  though  I  had  reached  a 
free  state,  and  had  attained  a  position  for  public  use- 
fulness, I  was  still  tormented  with  the  liability  of 
losing  my  liberty.  How  this  liability  was  dispelled, 
will  be  related,  with  other  incidents,  in  the  next 
chapter. 


CIIAPTEE  XXIY. 

TWENTY-ONE  MONTHS  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN. 

GOOD  ARISING  OUT  OF  UNPROPITIOUS  EVENTS DENIED  CABIN  PASSAGE PRO- 
SCRIPTION TURNED  TO  GOOD  ACCOUNT THE  HUTCHINSON  FAMILY THE  MOB 

ON  BOARD  THE  CAMBRIA HAPPY  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  BRITISH  PUBLIC 

LETTER    ADDRESSED    TO    WILLIAM    LLOYD    GARRISON TIME    AND    LABORS- 

"WHILE  ABROAD FREEDOM  PURCHASED MRS.  HENRY    RICHARDSON FREE 

PAPERS ABOLITIONISTS    DISPLEASED  WITH   THE    RANSOM HOW    THE    AU- 
THOR'S   ENERGIES    WERE    DIRECTED RECEPTION    SPEECH    IN  LONDON 

CHARACTER  OF    THE    SPEECH    DEFENDED CIRCUMSTANCES    EXPLAINED 

CAUSES  CONTRIBUTING  TO  THE  SUCCESS    OF  HIS  MLSSION FREE  CHURCH    OF 

SCOTLAND TESTIMONIAL. 

The  allotments  of  Providence,  wlien  coupled  with 
trouble  and  anxiety,  often  conceal  from  finite  vision 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  in  which  they  are  sent ; 
and,  frequently,  what  seemed  a  harsh  and  invidious 
dispensation,  is  converted  by  after  experience  into  a 
happy  and  beneficial  arrangement.  Thus,  the  pain-_ 
ful  liability  to  be  returned  again  to  slavery,  which 
haunted  me  by  day,  and  troubled  my  dreams  by 
night,  proved  to  be  a  necessary  step  in  the  path  of 
knowledge  and  usefulness.  The  writing  of  my  pam- 
phlet, in  the  spring  of  1845,  endangered  my  liberty, 
and  led  me  to  seek  a  refuge  from  republican  slavery 
in  monarchical  England.  A  rude,  uncultivated  fugi- 
tive slave  w^as  driven,  by  stern  necessity,  to  that  coun- 
try to  which  young  American  gentlemen  go  to  increase 


SG6  LIFE   AS  A  FEEEMAK. 

their  stock  of  knowledge,  to  seek  pleasure,  to  have 
tlieir  rough,  democratic  manners  softened  by  contact 
with  English  aristocratic  refinement.  On  applying 
for  a  passage  to  England,  on  board  the  Cambria,  of 
the  Ounard  line,  my  friend,  James  N".  BufFum,  of  Lynn, 
Massachusetts,  was  informed  that  I  could  not  be  re- 
ceived on  board  as  a  cabin  passenger.  American 
prejudice  against  color  triumphed  over  British  liberal- 
ity and  civilization,  and  erected  a  color  test  and  con- 
dition for  crossing  the  sea  in  the  cabin  of  a  British 
vessel.  The  insult  was  keenly  felt  by  my  white 
friends,  but  to  me,  it  was  common,  expected,  and 
therefore,  a  thing  of  no  great  consequence,  whether 
I  went  in  the  cabin  or  in  the  steerage.  Moreover,  I 
felt  that  if  I  could  not  go  into  the  first  cabin,  first- 
cabin  passengers  could  come  into  the  second  cabin, 
and  the  result  justified  my  anticipations  to  the  fullest 
extent.  Indeed,  I  soon  found  myself  an  object  of 
more  general  interest  than  I  wished  to  be  ;  and  so 
far  from  being  degraded  by  being  placed  in  the  sec- 
ond cabin,  that  part  of  the  ship  became  the  scene  of 
as  much  pleasure  and  refinement,  during  the  voyage, 
as  the  cabin  itself.  The  Hutchinson  Family,  cele- 
brated vocalists  —  fellow-passengers  —  often  came  to 
my  rude  forecastle  deck,  and  sung  their  sweetest 
songs,  enlivening  the  place  with  eloquent  music,  as 
well  as  spirited  conversation,  during  the  voyage.  In 
two  days  after  leaving  Boston,  one  part  of  the  ship 
was  about  as  free  to  me  as  another.  My  fellow-jDas- 
sengers  not  only  visited  me,  but  invited  me  to  visit 
them,  on  the  saloon  deck.  My  visits  there,  however, 
,were  but  seldom.     I  preferred   to  live  within  my 


i  MOB  ABOARD  SHIP.  36? 

privileges,  and  keepnpon  my  own  premises.  I  found 
this  quite  as  much  in  accordance  with  good  policy, 
as  with  my  own  feelings.  The  effect  was,  that  with 
the  majority  of  the  passengers,  all  color  distinctions 
were  flung  to  the  winds,  and  I  found  myself  treated 
with  every  mark  of  respect,  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end  of  the  voyage,  except  in  a  single  in- 
stance ;  and  in  that,  I  came  near  being  mobbed,, 
for  complying  with  an  invitation  given  me  by  the 
passengers,  and  the  captain  of  the  "Cambria," 
to  deliver  a  lecture  on  slavery.  Our  'New  Orleans 
and  Georgia  passengers  were  pleased  to  regard  my 
lecture  as  an  insult  offered  to  them,  and  swore  I 
should  not  speak.  They  went  so  far  as  to  threaten 
to  throw  me  overboard,  and  but  for  the  firmness  of 
Captain  Judkins,  probably  would  have  (under  the 
inspiration  of  slavery  and  brandy)  attempted  to  put 
their  threats  into  execution.  I  have  no  space  to  de- 
scribe this  scene,  although  its  tragic  and  comic  pecu- 
liarities are  well  worth  describing.  An  end  was  put 
to  the  melee,  by  the  captain's  calling  the  ship's  com- 
pany to  put  the  salt  water  mobocrats  in  irons.  At 
this  determined  order,  the  gentlemen  of  the  lash 
scampered,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  voyage  conducted 
themselves  very  decorously. 

This  incident  of  the  voyage,  in  two  days  after  land- 
ing at  Liverpool,  brought  me  at  once  before  the  Brit- 
ish public,  and  that  by  no  act  of  my  own.  The  gen- 
tlemen so  promptly  snubbed  in  their  meditated  vio- 
lence, flew  to  the  press  to  justify  their  conduct,  and 
to  denounce  me  as  a  worthless  and  insolent  negro. 
This  course  was  even  less  wise  than  the  conduct  it 


368  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

was  intended  to  sustain  ;  for,  besides  awakening 
something  like  a  national  interest  in  me,  and  secnring 
me  an  audience,  it  brought  out  counter  statements, 
and  threw  the  blame  upon  themselves,  which  they 
had  sought  to  fasten  upon  me  and  the  gallant  captain 
of  the  ship. 

Some  notion  may  be  formed  of  the  difference  in 
my  feelings  and  circumstances,  while  abroad,  from 
the  followiuo;  extract  from  one  of  a  series  of  letters 
addressed  by  me  to  Mr.  Garrison,  and  published  in 
the  Liberator.  It  was  written  on  the  first  day  of 
January,  184:6  : 

"  My  Dear  Friend  Garrison  :  Up  to  this  time,  I  have 
given  no  direct  expression  of  the  views,  feelings,  and  opinions 
which  I  have  formed,  respecting  the  character  and  condition  of 
the  people  of  this  land.  I  have  refrained  thus,  purposely.  I 
wish  to  speak  advisedly,  and  in  order  to  do  this,  I  have  waited 
till,  I  trust,  experience  has  brought  my  opinions  to  an  intelli- 
gent maturity.  I  have  been  thus  careful,  not  because  I  think 
what  I  say  will  have  much  effect  in  shaping  the  opinions  of  the 
world,  but  because  whatever  of  influence  I  may  possess,  whether 
little  or  much,  I  wish  it  to  go  in  the  right  direction,  and  ac- 
cording to  truth.  I  hardly  need  say  that,  in  speaking  of  Ire- 
land, I  shall  be  influenced  by  no  prejudices  in  favor  of  Amer- 
ica. I  think  my  circumstances  all  forbid  that.  I  have  no  end 
to  serve,  no  creed  to  uphold,  no  government  to  defend ;  and 
as  to  nation,  1  belong  to  none.  I  have  no  protection  at  home, 
or  resting-place  abroad.  The  land  of  my  birth  welcomes  me 
to  her  shores  only  as  a  slave,  and  spurns  with  contempt  the 
idea  of  treating  me  differently ;  so  that  I  am  an  outcast  from 
the  society  of  my  childhood,  and  an  outlaw  in  the  land  of  my 
birth,     'I  am  a  stranger  with  thee,  and  a  sojourner,  as  all  my 


LETTER  TO  GAKKISON.  369 

fathers  were.'  That  men  should  be  patriotic,  is  to  me  per- 
fectly natural ;  and  as  a  philosophical  fact,  I  am  able  to  give 
it  an  intellectual  recognition.  But  no  further  can  I  go.  If 
ever  I  had  any  patriotism,  or  any  capacity  for  the  feeling,  it 
was  whipped  out  of  me  long  since,  by  the  lash  of  the  Ameri- 
can soul-drivers. 
j/  "  In  thinking  of  America,  I  sometimes  find  myself  admiring 
her  bright  blue  sky,  her  grand  old  woods,  her  fertile  fields,  her 
beautiful  rivers,  her  mighty  lakes,  and  star-crowned  mountains. 
But  my  rapture  is  soon  checked,  ray  joy  is  soon  turned  to 
mourning.  When  I  remember  that  all  is  cursed  with  the  in- 
fernal  spirit  of  slaveholding,  robbery,  and  wrong ;  when  I  re- 
member that  with  the  waters  of  her  noblest  rivers,  the  tears 
of  my  brethren  are  borne  to  the  ocean,  disregarded  and  for- 
gotten, and  that  her  most  fertile  fields  drink  daily  of  the  warm 
blood  of  my  outraged  sisters;  I  am  filled  with  unutterable 
loathing,  and  led  to  reproach  myself  that  anything  could  fall 
from  my  lips  In  praise  of  such  a  land.  America  will  not  al- 
low her  children  to  love  her.  She  seems  bent  on  compelling 
those  who  would  be  her  warmest  friends,  to  be  her  worst  ene- 
mies. May  God  give  her  repentance,  before  it  is  too  late,  is 
the  ardent  prayer  of  my  heart.  I  will  continue  to  pray,  labor, 
and  wait,  believing  that  she  cannot  always  be  insensible  to  the 
dictates  of  justice,  or  deaf  to  the  voice  of  humanity. 

"  My  opportunities  for  learning  the  character  and  condition 
of  the  people  of  this  land  have  been  very  great  I  have  trav- 
eled almost  from  the  Rill  of  Howth  to  the  Giant's  Causeway, 
and  from  the  Giant's  Causeway  to  Cape  Clear.  During  these 
travels,  I  have  met  with  much  in  the  character  and  condition 
of  the  people  to  approve,  and  much  to  condemn ;  much  that 
has  thrilled  me  with  pleasure,  and  \&rj  much  that  has  filled 
me  with  pain.  I  will  not,  in  this  letter,  attempt  to  give  any 
description  of  those  scenes  which  have  given  me  pain.  This  I 
will  do  hereafler.     I  have  enough,  and  more  than  your  sub 


S70  LIFE  AS  A  FliEEMAN. 

scribers  will  be  disposed  to  read  at  one  time,  of  the  bright  side 
of  the  picture.  I  can  truly  say,  I  have  spent  some  of  the  hap- 
piest moments  of  my  life  since  laixling  in  this  country.  I 
seem  to  have  undergone  a  transformation.  I  live  a  new  life. 
The  warm  and  generous  cooperation  extended  to  me  by  the 
friends  of  my  despised  race ;  the  prompt  and  liberal  man- 
ner with  which  the  press  has  rendered  me  its  aid ;  the  glori- 
ous enthusiasm  with  which  thousands  have  flocked  to  hear  the 
cruel  wrongs  of  my  down-trodden  and  long-enslaved  fellow- 
countrymen  portrayed  ;  the  deep  sympathy  for  the  slave,  and 
the  strong  abhorrence  of  the  slaveholder,  everywhere  evinced  ; 
the  cordiality  with  which  members  and  minister  of  various 
religious  bodies,  and  of  various  shades  of  religious  opinion, 
have  embraced  me,  and  lent  me  their  aid ;  the  kind  hospital- 
ity constantly  proffered  to  me  by  persons  of  the  highest  rank 
in  society  ;  the  spirit  of  freedom  that  seems  to  animate  all 
with  whom  I  come  in  contact,  and  the  entire  absence  of  every- 
thing that  looked  like  prejudice  against  me,  on  account  of  the 
color  of  my  skin  —  contrasted  so  strongly  with  my  long  and 
bitter  experience  in  the  United  States,  that  I  lock  with  wonder 
and  amazement  on  the  transitioii.  hi  the  southern  part  of  the 
United  States,  I  was  a  slave,  thought  of  and  spoken  of  as  prop- 
erty ;  in  the  language  of  the  law,  ^held,  taken,  reputed,  and 
adjudged  to  be  a  chattel  in  ike  hands  of  tny  owners  and  pos- 
sessors, and  their  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns,  to  all 
intents,  constructions,  and  purposes  whatsoever.''  (Brev.  Di- 
gest, 224.)  hi  the  northern  states,  a  fugitive  slave,  liable  to 
be  hunted  at  any  moment,  like  a  felon,  and  to  be  hurled  into 
the  terrible  jaws  of  slavery — doomed  by  an  inveterate  preju- 
dice against  color  to  insult  and  outrage  on  every  hand,  (JMas.-u- 
chusetts  out  of  the  question) — denied  the  privileges  and  cour- 
tesies common  to  others  in  the  use  of  the  most  humble  means 
of  conveyance  —  shut  out  from  the  cabins  on  steamboats — re- 
fused admission  to  respectable  hotels  —  caricatured,  scorned, 


LETTER  TO  GAEEISON.  371 

scoffed,  mocked,  and  maltreated  with  impunity  by  any  one, 
(no  matter  how  black  his  heart,)  so  he  has  a  white  skin.  But 
now  behold  the  change  !  Eleven  days  and  a  half  gone,  and  I 
have  crossed  three  thousand  miles  of  the  perilous  deep.  In- 
stead of  a  democratic  government,  I  am  under  a  monarchical 
government.  Instead  of  the  bright,  blue  sky  of  America,  1 
am  covered  wnth  the  soft,  grey  fog  of  the  Emerald  Isle.  I 
breathe,  and  lo !  the  chattel  becomes  a  man.  I  gaze  around 
in  vain  for  one  who  will  question  my  equal  hum^anity,  claim 
me  as  his  slave,  or  offer  me  an  insult.  I  employ  a  cab — I  am 
seated  beside  white  people  —  I  reach  the  hotel  —  I  enter  the 
same  door — I  am  shown  into  the  same  parlor — I  dine  at  the 
same  table — and  no  one  is  offended.  No  delicate  nose  grows 
deformed  in  my  presence.  I  find  no  difficulty  here  in  obtain- 
ing admission  into  any  place  of  worship,  instruction,  or  amuse- 
ment, on  equal  terms  with  people  as  white  as  any  I  ever  saw 
in  the  United  States.  I  meet  nothing  to  remind  me  of  my 
complexion.  I  find  myself  regarded  and  treated  at  every  turn 
with  the  kindness  and  deference  paid  to  white  people.  When 
I  go  to  church,  I  am  met  by  no  upturned  nose  and  scornful  lip 
to  tell  me,  'TFc  doi-Ct  allow  niggers  in  here!'' 

"  I  remember,  about  two  years  ago,  there  was  in  Boston, 
near  the  south-west  corner  of  Boston  Common,  a  menagerie. 
I  had  long  desired  to  see  such  a  collection  as  I  understood 
was  being  exhibited  there.  Never  having  had  an  opportunity 
while  a  slave,  I  resolved  to  seize  this,  my  first,  since  my  escape. 
I  went,  and  as  I  approached  the  entrance  to  gain  admission,  I 
was  met  and  told  by  the  door-keeper,  in  a  harsh  and  contempt- 
uous tone,  '  We  don't  allow  niggers  in  here.''  I  also  remember 
attending  a  revival  meeting  in  the  Rev.  Henry  Jackson's  meet 
ing-house,  at  New  Bedford,  and  going  up  the  broad  aisle  to 
find  a  seat,  I  was  met  by  a  good  deacon,  who  told  me,  in  a 
pious  tone,  '  IFe  don't  allow  niggers  in  here!''  Soon  after 
my  arrival  in  New  Bedford,  from  the  south,  I  had  a  strong  de- 


372  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

sire  to  attend  the  Lyceum,  but  was  told,  ''They  dofCt  allow  nig- 
gers in  here!''  While  passing  from  New  York  to  Boston,  on 
the  steamer  Massachusetts,  on  the  night  of  the  9th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1843,  when  chilled  almost  through  with  the  cold,  I  went 
into  the  cabin  to  get  a  little  warm.  I  was  soon  touched  upon 
the  shoulder,  and  told,  '■We  don'' tallow  niggers  in  here!''  On 
arriving  in  Boston,  from  an  anti-slavery  tour,  hungry  and  tired, 
I  went  into  an  eating-house,  near  my  friend,  Mr.  Campbell's, 
to  get  some  refreshments.  I  was  met  by  a  lad  in  a  white 
apron,  '  We  doii't  alloiv  niggers  in  here  ! '  A  week  or  two  be- 
fore leaving  the  United  States,  I  had  a  meeting  appointed  at 
Weymouth,  the  home  of  that  glorious  band  of  true  abolition- 
ists, the  Weston  family,  and  others.  On  attempting  to  take 
a  seat  in  the  omnibus  to  that  place,  I  was  told  by  the  driver, 
(and  I  never  shall  forget  his  fiendish  hate,)  ''Idont  allow  nig- 
gers in  here  ! '  Thank  heaven  for  the  respite  I  now  enjoy  !  I 
had  been  in  Dublin  but  a  few  days,  when  a  gentleman  of  great 
respectability  kindly  offered  to  conduct  me  through  all  the 
public  buildings  of  that  beautiful  city ;  and  a  little  afterward,  I 
found  myself  dining  with  the  lord  mayor  of  Dublin.  What  a 
pity  there  was  not  some  American  democratic  christian  at  the 
door  of  his  splendid  mansion,  to  bark  out  at  my  approach, 
'' Tliey  don't  alloio  niggers  in  here!''  The  truth  is,  the  people 
here  know  nothing  of  the  republican  negro  hate  prevalent  in 
our  glorious  land.  They  measure  and  esteem  men  according 
to  their  moral  and  intellectual  worth,  and  not  according  to  the 
color  of  their  skin.  Vv'hatever  may  be  said  of  the  aristocra- 
cies here,  there  is  none  based  on  the  color  of  a  man's  skin. 
This  species  of  aristocracy  belongs  preeminently  to  'the  land 
of  the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave.'  I  have  never  found 
it  abroad,  in  any  but  Americans.  It  sticks  to  them  wherever 
they  go.  They  find  it  almost  as  hard  to  get  rid  of,  as  to  got 
rid  of  their  skins. 

"The  second  day  after  my  arrival  at  Liverpool,  in  compaMy 


TniE  AND  LABORS  ABROAD.  373 

with  my  friend,  Bufflim,  and  several  other  friends,  I  went  to 
Eaton  Hall,  the  residence  of  the  Marquis  of  Westminster,  one 
of  the  most  splendid  buildings  in  England.  On  approaching 
the  door,  I  found  several  of  our  American  passengers,  who 
came  out  with  us  in  the  Cambria,  waiting  for  admission,  as 
but  one  party  was  allowed  in  the  house  at  a  time.  We  all 
had  to  wait  till  the  company  within  came  out.  And  of  all  the 
faces,  expressive  of  chagrin,  those  of  the  Americans  were  pre- 
eminent. They  looked  as  sour  as  vinegar,  and  as  bitter  as 
gall,  when  they  found  I  was  to  be  admitted  on  equal  terms 
with  themselves.  When  the  door  was  opened,  I  walked  in, 
on  an  equal  footing  with  my  white  fellow-citizens,  and  from  all 
I  could  see,  I  had  as  much  attention  paid  me  by  the  servants 
that  showed  us  through  the  house,  as  any  \vith  a  paler  skin. 
As  I  walked  through  the  building,  the  statuary  did  not  fall 
down,  the  pictures  did  not  leap  from  their  places,  the  doors 
did  not  refuse  to  open,  and  the  servants  did  not  say,  '  We  donH 
alloiv  niffffers  in  here  I  ^ 

"  A  happy  new-year  to  you,  and  all  the  friends  of  freedom." 

My  time  and.  labors,  while  abroad,  were  divided 
between  England,  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  Wales. 
Upon  tliis  experience  alone,  I  miglit  write  a  book 
t\vice  the  size  of  this,  "  Jfi/  Bondage  and  my  Free- 
dom^  I  visited  and  lectured  in  nearly  all  the  large 
towns  and  cities  in  the  United  Kingdom,  and  enjoyed 
many  favorable  opportunities  for  observation  and  in- 
formation. But  books  on  England  are  abundant,  and 
the  public  may,  therefore,  dismiss  any  fear  that  I  am 
meditating  another  infliction  in  that  line ;  though,  in 
truth,  I  should  like  much  to  write  a  book  on  those 
countries,  if  for  nothing  else,  to  make  grateful  men- 
tion of  the  many  dear  friends,  whose  benevolent  ac- 


374  LIFE  AS  A  FKEEMAJSr. 

tions  to\rard  me  are  ineffaceably  stamped  upon  my 
memory,  and  warmly  treasured  in  my  heart.  To  these 
friends  I  owe  my  freedom  in  the  United  States.  On 
their  own  motion,  without  any  solicitation  from  me, 
(Mrs.  Henry  Richardson,  a  clever  lady,  remarkable 
for  her  devotion  to  every  good  work,  taking  the  lead,) 
they  raised  a  fund  sufficient  to  purchase  my  freedom, 
and  actually  paid  it  over,  and  placed  the  papers  ^'  of 

*  The  following  is  a  copy  of  these  curious  papers,  both  of  my 
transfer  from  Thomas  to  Hugh  Auld,  and  from  Hugh  to  myself : 

"  Know  all  men  by  these  Presents,  That  I,  Thomas  Auld,  of  Tal- 
bot county,  and  state  of  Maryland,  for  and  in  consideration  of  the 
6um  of  one  hundred  dollars,  current  mone}",  to  me  paid  by  Hugh 
Auld,  of  the  city  of  Baltimore,  in  the  said  state,  at  and  before  the 
sealing  and  delivery  of  these  presents,  the  receipt  whereof,  I,  the 
said  Thomas  Auld,  do  hereby  acknowledge,  have  granted,  bargained, 
and  sold,  and  by  these  presents  do  grant,  bargain,  and  sell  unto  the 
isaid  Hugh  Auld,  his  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns,  one  ne- 
gro MAN,  by  the  name  of  Frederick  Baily,  or  Douglass,  as  he  calls 
himself — he  is  now  about  twenty-eight  years  of  age — to  have  and  to 
hold  the  said  negro  man  for  life.  And  I,  the  said  Thomas  Auld,  for 
myself,  my  heirs,  executors,  and  administrators,  all  and  singular, 
the  said  Frederick  Baily,  alias  Douglass,  onto  the  said  Hugh  Auld, 
his  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns,  against  me,  the  said 
Thomas  Auld,  my  executors,  and  administrators,  and  against  all 
and  every  other  person  or  persons  whatsoever,  shall  and  will  war- 
rant and  forever  defend  by  these  presents.  In  witness  whereof,  I 
Bet  my  hand  and  seal,  this  thirteenth  day  of  November,  eighteen 
hundred  and  forty-six.  Thomas  Auld. 

"Signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  in  presence  of  Wrightson  Jones. 
"John  C.  Leas." 

The  authenticity  of  this  bill  of  sale  is  attested  by  K  Harrington, 
a  justice  of  the  peace  of  the  state  of  Mainland,  and  for  the  county 
of  Talbot,  dated  same  day  as  above. 

"  To  all  whom  it  may  concern  :     Be  it  known,  that  I,  Hugh  Auld, 


FREEDOM  PURCHASED.  375 

my  manumission  in  my  hands,  before  tliey  would  tol- 
erate tlie  idea  of  my  returning  to  this,  my  native 
country.  To  this  commercial  transaction  I  owe  my 
exemption  from  the  democratic  operation  of  the  fu- 
gitive slave  bill  of  1850.  But  for  this,  I  might  at 
any  time  become  a  victim  of  this  most  cruel  and  scan- 
dalous enactment,  and  be  doomed  to  end  my  life,  as 
I  began  it,  a  slave.  The  sum  paid  for  my  freedom 
was  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  sterling. 

Some  of  my  uncompromising  anti-slavery  friends 
in  this  country  failed  to  see  the  wisdom  of  this  ar- 
rangement, and  were  not  pleased  that  I  consented  to 
it,  even  by  my  silence.  They  thought  it  a  violation 
of  anti-slavery  principles — conceding  a  right  of  prop- 
erty in  man — and  a  wasteful  expenditure  of  money. 
On  the  other  hand,  viewing  it  simply  in  the  light  of 
a  ransom,  or  as  money  extorted  by  a  robber,  and  my 
liberty  of  more  value  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  sterling,  I  could  not  see  either  a  violation  of 
the  laws  of  morality,  or  those  of  economy,  in  the 
transaction. 


of  the  city  of  Baltimore,  in  Baltimore  coTinty,  in  the  state  of  Mary- 
land, for  divers  good  causes  and  considerations,  me  thereunto  mov- 
ing, have  released  from  slavery,  liberated,  manumitted,  and  set  free, 
and  by  these  presents  do  hereby  release  from  slavery,  liberate, 
manumit,  and  set  free,  my  xegro  man,  named  Frederick  Baily,  oth- 
erwise called  Douglass,  being  of  the  age  of  twenty-eight  years,  or 
thereabouts,  and  able  to  work  and  gain  a  sufficient  livelihood  and 
maintenance;'  and  him  the  said  negro  man,  named  Frederick 
Baily,  otherwise  called  Frederick:  Douglass,  I  do  declare  to  be 
henceforth  free,  manumitted,  and  discharged  from  all  manner  of 
servitude  to  me,  my  executors,  and  administrators  forever. 

"  In  witness  whereof,  I,  the  said  Hugh  Auld,  liave  hereunto  set 


376  LIFE  AS  A  FREKMAN. 

It  is  true,  I  was  not  in  the  possession  of  my  claim- 
ants, and  could  have  easily  remained  in  England,  for 
the  same  friends  who  had  so  generously  purchased 
my  freedom,  would  have  assisted  me  in  establishing 
myself  in  that  country.  To  this,  however,  I  could 
not  consent.  I  felt  that  I  had  a  duty  to  perform  — 
and  that  vras,  to  labor  and  suiter  with  the  02D23ressed 
in  my  native  land.  Considering,  therefore,  all  the 
circumstances  —  the  fugitive  slave  bill  included  —  I 
think  the  verj  best  thing  was  done  in  letting  Master 
Hugh  have  the  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  sterlino-j 
and  leaving  me  free  to  return  to  my  appropriate  field 
of  labor.  Had  I  been  a  private  person,  havino-  no 
other  relations  or  duties  than  those  of  a  personal  and 
family  nature,  I  should  never  have  consented  to  the 
payment  of  so  large  a  sum  for  the  privilege  of  living 
securely  under  our  glorious  republican  form  of  gov- 
ernment. I  could  have  remained  in  England,  or  have 
gone  to  som.e  other  country ;  and  perhaps  I  could 
even  have  lived  unobserved  in  this.  But  to  this  I 
could  not  consent.  I  had  already  become  somewhat 
notorious,  and  withal  quite  as  unpopular  as  notorious; 
and  I  v/as,  therefore,  much  exposed  to  arrest  and  re- 
capture. 

The  main  object  to  which  my  laboi^  in  Great  Brit- 
ain were  directed,  was  the  concentration  of  the  moral 
and  religious  sentiment  of  its  people  against  Amer- 
ican slavery.     England  is  often  charged  with  having 

my  hand  and  seal,  tlie  fifth  of  December,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  forty-six.  Hugh  Aulb. 

"Sealed  and  delivered  in  presence  of  T.  Hanson  Belt. 
"Jamks  K  S,  T.  Wright." 


ENGLISH    KEPDBLICANS.  STl 

established  slavery  in  the  United  States,  and  if  there 
were  no  other  justification  than  this,  for  appealing  to 
her  people  to  lend  their  moral  aid  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery,  I  should  be  justified.  My  speeches  in 
Great  Britain  were  wholly  extemporaneous,  and  I 
may  not  always  have  been  so  guarded  in  my  ex- 
pressions, as  I  otherwise  should  have  been.  I  was 
ten  years  younger  then  than  now,  and  only  seven 
years  from  slavery.  I  cannot  give  the  reader  a  bet- 
ter idea  of  the  nature  of  my  discourses,  than  by  re- 
publishing one  of  them,  delivered  in  Finsbury  chapel, 
London,  to  an  audience  of  about  two  thousand  per- 
sons, and  which  was  published  in  the  "  London  LTni- 
verse,"  at  the  time.* 

Those  in  the  United  States  who  may  regard  this 
speech  as  being  harsh  in  its  spirit  and  unjust  in  its 
statements,  because  delivered  before  an  audience  sup- 
posed to  be  anti-republican  in  their  principles  and 
feelings,  may  view  the  matter  differently,  when  they 
learn  that  the  case  supposed  did  not  exist.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  the  great  mass  of  the  people  in  England 
who  attended  and  patronized  my  anti-slavery  meet- 
ings, were,  in  truth,  about  as  good  republicans  as  the 
mass  of  Americans,  and  w^ith  this  decided  advan- 
tage over  the  latter — -they  are  lovers  of  republi- 
canism for  all  men,  for  black  men  as  well  as  for 
white  men.  They  are  the  people  who  sympatliize 
with  Louis  Kossuth  and  Mazzini,  and  with  the  op- 
pressed and  enslaved,  of  every  color  and  nation,  the 
world  over.  They  constitute  the  democratic  element 
in  British  politics,  and  are  as  much  opposed  to  tho 

*  See  Appendix  to  tliis  volume,  page  40^* 


3  78  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

union  of  cliurcli  and  state  as  we,  in  America,  are  to 
such  an  imion^  At  the  meeting  where  this  speech 
was  delivered,  Joseph  Sturge— a  world-wide  philan- 
thropist, and  a  memher  of  the  society  of  Friends  — 
presided,  and  addressed  the  meeting.  George  Wil- 
liam Alexander,  another  Friend,  who  has  spent  more 
than  an  American  fortune  in  promoting  the  anti-sla- 
very cause  in  different  sections  of  the  worki,  was  on 
the  platform ;  and  also  Dr.  Campbell,  (now  of  the 
"British  Banner,")  who  combines  all  the  humane 
tenderness  of  Melancthon,  with  the  directness  and 
boldness  of  Luther.  He  is  in  the  very  front  ranks 
of  non-conformists,  and  looks  with  no  unfriendly  eye 
U23on  America.  George  Thompson,  too,  was  there  ; 
and  America  will  yet  own  that  he  did  a  true  man's 
work  in  relighting  the  rapidly  dying-out  fire  of  true 
republicanism  in  the  American  heart,  and  be  ashamed 
of  the  treatment  he  met  at  her  hands.  Coming  gen- 
erations in  this  country  will  applaud  the  spirit  of 
this  much  abused  republican  friend  of  freedom. 
There  were  others  of  note  seated  on  the  platform, 
who  would  gladly  ingraft  upon  English  institutions  all 
that  is  purely  republican  in  the  institutions  of  Amer- 
ica. Nothing,  therefore,  must  be  set  down  against 
this  speech  on  the  score  that  it  was  delivered  in  the 
presence  of  those  who  cannot  appreciate  the  many 
excellent  things  belonging  to  our  system  of  govern- 
ment, and  with  a  view  to  stir  up  prejudice  against  re- 
publican institutions. 

Again,  let  it  also  be  remembered  —  for  it  is  the 
simple  truth — that  neither  in  this  spcecli,  nor  in  any- 
other  which  I  delivered  in  England,  did  I  ever  allow 


THE  SPEECH  DEFENDED.  379 

myself  to  address  Englishmen  as  against  Americans. 
I  took  my  stand  on  the  high  ground  of  hnman  broth- 
erhood, and  spoke  to  Englishmen  as  men,  in  behalf 
of  men.  Slavery  is  a  crime,  not  against  Englishmen, 
but  against  God,  and  all  the  members  of  the  hnman 
family ;  and  it  belongs  to  the  whole  human  family  to' 
seek  its  suppression.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Greeley,  of 
the  New  York  Tribune,  written  wdiile  abroad,  I  said : 

"  I  am,  nevertheless,  aware  that  the  wisdom  of  exposing  the 
sins  of  one  nation  in  the  ear  of  another,  has  been  seriously 
questioned  by  good  and  clear-sighted  people,  both  on  this  and 
on  your  side  of  the  Atlantic.  And  the  thought  is  not  without 
weight  on  my  own  mind.  I  am  satisfied  that  there  are  many 
evils  which  can  be  best  removed  by  confining  our  efforts  to  the 
immediate  locality  where  such  evils  exist.  This,  however,  is 
by  no  means  the  case  with  the  system  of  slavery.  It  is  such 
a  giant  sin — such  a  monstrous  aggregation  of  iniquity — so  hard- 
ening to  tlie  human  heart — so  destructive  to  the  moral  sense, 
and  so  well  calculated  to  beget  a  character,  in  every  one  around 
it,  favorable  to  its  own  continuance, — that  I  feel  not  only  at 
liberty,  but  abundantly  justified,  in  appealing  to  the  whole 
world  to  aid  in  its  removal." 

But,  even  if  I  had — as  has  been  often  charged  — 
labored  to  bring  American  institutions  generally  into 
disrepute,  and  had  not  confined  my  labors  strictly 
within  the  limits  of  humanity  and  morality,  I  should 
not  have  been  without  illustrious  examples  to  sup- 
port me.  Driven  into  semi-exile  by  civil  and  bar- 
barous laws,  and  by  a  system  v/hich  cannot  be  thought 
of  without  a  shudder,  I  was  fully  justified  in  turning, 
if  possible,  the  tide  of  the  moral  universe  against  the 
heaven-daring  outrage. 


380  LIFE  AS  A  FKEEMAN. 

Four  circumstances  greatlj  assisted  me  in  getting 
the  question  of  American  slavery  before  the  British 
public.  First,  the  mob  on  board  the  Cambria,  al- 
ready referred  to,  which  vras  a  sort  of  national  an- 
nouncement of  my  arrival  in  England.  Secondly, 
the  highly  reprehensible  course  pursued  by  the  Free 
Church  of  Scotland,  in  soliciting,  receiving,  and  re- 
taining money  in  its  sustentation  fund  for  supporting 
the  gospel  in  Scotland,  which  was  evidently  the  ill- 
gotten  gain  of  slaveholders  and  slave-traders.  Third, 
the  great  Evangelical  Alliance — or  rather  the  attempt 
to  form  such  an  alliance,  which  should  include  slave- 
holders of  a  certain  description— ^Tidded  immensely  to 
the  interest  felt  in  the  slav^ery  question.  About  the 
same  time,  there  was  the  World's  Temperance  Con- 
vention, V\diere  I  had  the  misfortune  to  come  in  col- 
lision with  sundry  American  doctors  of  divinity — Dr. 
Cox  among  the  number — vrith  whom  I  had  a  small 
controversy. 

It  has  happened  to  me — as  it  has  happened  to  most 
other  men  engaged  in  a  good  cause — often  to  be  more 
indebted  to  my  enemies  than  to  my  own  skill  or  to 
the  assistance  of  my  friends,  for  whatever  success  has 
attended  my  labors.  Great  surprise  was  expressed 
by  American  newspapers,  north  and  south,  during 
my  stay  in  Great  Britain,  that  a  person  so  illiterate 
and  insignificant  as  myself  could  awaken  an  interest 
so  marked  in  England.  These  papers  were  not  the 
only  parties  surprised.  I  was  myself  not  far  behind 
them  in  surprise.  But  the  very  contempt  and  scorn, 
the  systematic  and  extravagant  disparagement  of 
which  I  was  the  object,  served,  perhaps,  to  magnify 


FREE  CHURCH  OF  SCOTLAND.  SSI 

mj  few  merits,  and  to  render  me  of  some  account,^ 
whether  deserving  or  not.  A  man  is  sometimes  made 
great,  by  the  greatness  of  the  abuse  a  portion  of  man- 
kind ma  J  think  proper  to  heap  upon  him.  Whether 
I  was  of  as  much  consequence  as  the  English  papers 
made  me  out  to  be,  or  not,  it  was  easily  seen,  in  En- 
gland, that  I  could  not  be  the  ignorant  and  worthless 
creature,  some  of  the  American  papers  would  have 
them  believe  I  was.  Men,  in  tlieir  senses,  do  not 
take  bowie-knives  to  kill  mosquitoes,  nor  pistols  to 
shoot  flies  ;  and  the  American  passengers  who  thought 
proper  to  get  up  a  mob  to  silence  me,  on  board  the 
Cambria,  took  the  most  effective  method  of  telling 
the  British  public  that  I  had  something  to  say. 

.But  to  the  second  circumstance,  namely,  the  po- 
sition of  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland,  with  the  great 
Doctors  Chalmers,  Cunningham,  and  Candlish  at  its 
head.  That  church,  with  its  leaders,  put  it  out  of 
the  power  of  the  Scotch  people  to  ask  the  old  ques- 
tion, which  we  in  the  north  have  often  most  wickedly 
asked  — ■ "  ^YIlat  have  %oe  to  do  loith  slavery  f  "  That 
church  had  taken  the  price  of  blood  into  its  treasury, 
with  which  to  build  free  churches,  and  to  pay  free 
church  ministers  for  preaching  the  gospel  ;  and, 
worse  still,  when  honest  John  Murray,  of  Bowlien 
Bay — now  gone  to  his  reward  in  heaven — with  Wil- 
liam Smeal,  Andrew  Baton,  Frederick  Card,  and 
other  sterling  anti-slavery  men  in  Glasgow,  denounced 
the  transaction  as  disgraceful  and  shocking  to  the  re- 
ligious sentiment  of  Scotland,  this  church,  through 
its  leading  divines,  instead  of  repenting  and  seeking 
to  mend  the  mistake  into  which  it  had  fallen,  made 


382  LIFE  AS  A  FKKEMAN. 

it  a  flagrant  sin,  bj  nnclertaldng  to  defend,  in  the 
name  of  God  and  the  bible,  the  principle  not  only  of 
taking  the  money  of  slave-dealers  to  build  churches, 
but  of  holding  fellowship  with  the  holders  and  traf- 
fickers in  human  flesh.  Tliis,  the  reader  will  see, 
brought  up  the  whole  question  of  slavery,  and  opened 
the  way  to  its  full  discussion,  without  any  agency  of 
mine.  I  have  never  seen  a  people  more  deeply 
moved  than  were  the  people  of  Scotland,  on  this  very 
question.  Public  meeting  succeeded  public  meet- 
ing. Speech  after  speech,  pamphlet  after  pamphlet, 
editorial  after  editorial,  sermon  after  sermon,  soon 
lashed  the  conscientious  Scotch  people  into  a  perfect 
furore.  "  Send  back  tue  money  !  "  was  indignantly 
cried  out,  from  Greenock  to  Edinburgh,  and  from 
Edinburgh  to  Aberdeen.  George  Thompson,  of  Lon- 
don, Henry  C.  Wright,  of  the  United  States,  James 
]^.  Buff'um,  of  Lynn,  Massachusetts,  and  myself  were 
on  the  anti-slavery  side  ;  and  Doctors  Chalmers,  Cun- 
ningham, and  Candlish  on  the  other.  In  a  conflict 
where  the  latter  could  have  had  even  the  show  of 
right,  the  truth,  in  our  hands  as  against  them,  must 
have  been  driven  to  the  wall ;  and  while  I  believe 
we  were  able  to  carry  the  conscience  of  the  country 
against  the  action  of  the  Free  Church,  the  battle,  it 
must  be  confessed,  was  a  hard-fought  one.  Abler 
defenders  of  the  doctrine  of  fellowshiping  slave- 
holders as  christians,  have  not  been  met  with.  In 
defending  this  doctrine,  it  was  necessary  to  deny  that 
slavery  is  a  sin.  If  driven  from  this  position,  they 
were  compelled  to  deny  that  slaveholders  were  re- 
sponsible for  the  sin ;  and  if  driven  from  both  these 


THE  DEBATE.  383 

positions,  tliey  must  deny  that  it  is  a  sin  in  sucli  a 
sense,  and  that  sL^veholders  are  sinners  in  such  a 
sense,  as  to  make  it  wrong,  in  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  were  placed,  to  recognize  them  as  chris- 
tians. Dr.  Cnnningham  was  the  most  po\verful  de- 
bater on  the  shivery  side  of  the  question ;  Mr.  Thomp- 
son was  the  ablest  on  the  anti-slavery  side.  A  scene 
occurred  between  these  two  men,  a  parallel  to  which 
I  think  I  never  witnessed  before,  and  I  know  I  never 
have  since.  The  scene  was  caused  by  a  single  ex- 
clamation on  the  part  of  Mr.  Thompson. 

The  general  assembly  of  the  Free  Church  was  in 
progress  at  Cannon  Mills,  Edinburgh.  The  building 
would  hold  about  twenty-iive  hundred  persons ;  and 
on  this  occasion  it  was  densely  packed,  notice  having 
been  given  that  Doctors  Cunningham  and  Candlish 
would  speak,  that  day,  in  defense  of  the  relations  of 
the  Free  Church  of  Scotland  to  slavery  in  America. 
Messrs.  Thompson,  Buffum,  myself,  and  a  few  anti- 
slavery  friends,  attended,  but  sat  at  such  a  distance, 
and  in  such  a  position,  that,  perhaps,  we  were  not 
observed  from  the  platform.  The  excitement  was  in- 
tense, having  been  greatly  increased  by  a  series  of 
meetings  held  by  Messrs.  Thompson,  Wright,  Buflfum, 
and  myself,  in  the  most  splendid  hall  in  that  most 
beautiful  city,  just  previous  to  the  meetings  of  the 
general  assembly.  "  Send  back  the  money  !  "  stared 
at  us  from  every  street  corner ;  "  Send  back  the 
money  ! "  in  large  capitals,  adorned  the  broad  flags 
of  the  pavement ;  "  Send  back  the  money  !  "  was  the 
chorus  of  the  popular  street  songs ;  "  Send  back  the 
MONEY  I "  was  the  heading  of  leading  editorials  in  the 


384  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

daily  nevrspapers.  This  clay,  at  Cannon  Mills,  the 
great  doctors  of  the  clinrch  were  to  give  an  answer 
to  this  loud  and  stern  demand.  Men  of  all  parties 
and  all  sects  were  most  eager  to  hear.  Something 
great  was  expected.  The  occasion  was  great,  the  men 
great,  and  great  speeches  were  expected  from  them. 
In  addition  to  the  outside  pressure  upon  Doctors 
Cunningham  and  Candlish,  there  was  wavering  in 
their  own  ranks.  The  conscience  of  the  church  it- 
self was  not  at  ease.  A  dissatisfaction  with  the  position 
of  the  cliurcli  touching  slavery,  was  sensibly  manifest 
among  the  members,  and  something  must  be  done  to 
counteract  this  untoward  influence.  The  great  Dr. 
Chalmers  was  in  feeble  health,  at  the  time.  His  most 
potent  eloquence  could  not  now  be  summoned  to 
Cannon  Mills,  as  formerly.  He  whose  voice  was 
able  to  rend  asunder  and  dash  down  the  granite  walls 
of  the  established  church  of  Scotland,  and  to  lead  a 
host  in  solemn  procession  from  it,  as  from  a  doomed 
city,  was  now  old  and  enfeebled.  Besides,  he  had 
said  his  word  on  this  very  question  ;  and  his  word 
had  not  silenced  the  clamor  w^ithout,  nor  stilled  the 
anxious  heavings  within.  The  occasion  was  momen- 
tous, and  felt  to  be  so.  The  church  was  in  a  perilous 
condition.  A  change  of  some  sort  must  take  place 
in  her  condition,  or  she  must  go  to  pieces.  To  stand 
where  she  did,  was  impossible.  The  whole  weight 
of  the  matter  fell  on  Cunningham  and  Candlish.  !No 
shoulders  in  the  cliurch  were  broader  than  theirs  ; 
and  I  must  say,  badly  as  I  detest  the  principles  laid 
down  and  defended  by  them,  I  wa=i  compelled  to  ac- 
knowledge the  vast  mental  endowments  of  the  men. 


DE.  Cunningham's  speech.  385 

Conningham  rose  ;  and  liis  rising  was  the  signal  for 
almost  tumultous  applause.  You  will  saj  this  was 
scarcely  in  keeping  with  the  solemnity  of  the  occa- 
sion, but  to  me  it  served  to  increase  its  grandeur  and 
gravity.  Tlie  applause,  though  tumultuous,  was  not 
joyous.  It  seemed  to  me,  as  it  thundered  up  from 
the  vast  audience,  like  the  fall  of  an  immense  shaft, 
flung  from  shoulders  already  galled  by  its  crushing 
weight.  It  was  like  saying,  "  Doctor,  we  have  borne 
this  burden  long  enough,  and  willingly  fling  it  upon 
you.  Since  it  was  you  who  brought  it  upon  us,  take 
it  now,  and  do  what  yoa  will  with  it,  for  we  are  too 
wearv  to  bear  it. 

Doctor  Cunningham  proceeded  with  his  speech, 
abounding  in  logic,  learning,  and  eloquence,  and  ap- 
parently bearing  down  all  opposition  ;  but  at  the  mo- 
ment— the  fatal  moment — when  he  was  just  bringing 
all  his  arguments  to  a  point,  and  that  point  being, 
that  neither  Jesus  Christ  nor  his  holy  apostles  re- 
garded slaveholding  as  a  sin,  George  Thompson,  in  a 
clear,  sonorous,  but  rebuking  voice,  broke  the  deep 
stillness  of  the  audience,  exclaiming,  "Hear!  hear! 
hear!"  The  eff'ect  of  this  simple  and  common  ex- 
clamation is  almost  incredible.  It  was  as  if  a  granite 
wall  had  been  suddenly  flung  up  against  the  advan- 
cing current  of  a  mighty  river.  For  a  moment, 
speaker  and  audience  were  brought  to  a  dead  silence. 
Both  the  doctor  and  his  hearers  seemed  appalled  by 
the  audacity,  as  well  as  the  fitness  of  the  rebuke.  At 
length  a  shout  went  up  to  the  cry  of  ^''Put  him  out!  " 
Happily,  no  one  attempted  to  execute  this  cowardly 
order,  and  the  doctor  proceeded  with  his  discourse. 
Q  25 


386  LIFE  AS  A  FKEEMAN. 

Not,  liowever,  as  before,  did  tlie  learned  doctor  pro- 
ceed. The  exclamation  of  Thompson  must  hjive  re- 
echoed itself  a  thousand  times  in  his  memory,  during 
the  remainder  of  his  speech,  for  the  doctor  never  re- 
covered from  the  blow. 

The  deed  was  done,  however ;  the  pillars  of  the 
church — the  pronely  Fi'ee  Church  of  Scotland — were 
committed,  and  the  humility  of  repentance  was  ab- 
sent. The  Free  Church  held  on  to  the  blood-stained 
money,  and  continued  to  justify  itself  in  its  position 
—  and  of  course  to  apologize  for  slavery — and  does 
so  till  this  day.  She  lost  a  glorious  opportunity  for 
giving  her  voice,  her  vote,  and  her  example  to  the 
cause  of  humanity  ;  and  to-day  she  is  staggering  nn- 
der  the  curse  of  the  enslaved,  whose  blood  is  in  her 
skirts.  The  people  of  Scotland  are,  to  this  day, 
deeply  grieved  at  the  course  pursued  by  the  Free 
Church,  and  would  hail,  as  a  relief  from  a  deep  and 
blighting  shame,  the  "  sending  back  the  money  "  to 
the  slaveholders  from  w^hom  it  was  gathered. 

One  good  result  followed  the  condnct  of  the  Free 
Church  ;  it  furnished  an  occasion  for  making  the  peo- 
ple of  Scotland  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  char- 
acter of  slavery,  and  for  arraying  against  the  system 
the  moral  and  religious  sentiment  of  that  country. 
Therefore,  while  we  did  not  succeed  in  accomplish- 
ing the  specific  object  of  our  mission,  namely  —  pro- 
cure the  sending  back  of  the  money  —  we  were  am- 
ply justified  by  the  good  which  really  did  result  from 
our  labors. 

Next  comes  the  Evangelical  Alliance.  This  was 
an  attempt  to  form  a  union  of  all  evangelical  chris- 


COLLISION  WITH  DR.  COX.  887 

tians  throiigliout  tlie  world.  Sixty  or  seventy  Amer- 
ican divines  attended,  and  some  of  them  went  there 
merely  to  weave  a  world-wide  garment  with  which 
to  clothe  evangelical  slaveholder^.  Foremost  among 
these  divines,  was  the  Rev.  Samuel  Hanson  Cox,  mod- 
erator of  the  New  School  Presbyterian  General  As- 
sembl}^  He  and  his  friends  spared  no  pains  to  se- 
cure a  platform  broad  enough  to  hold  American 
slaveholders,  and  in  this  they  partly  succeeded.  But 
the  question  of  slavery  is  too  large  a  question  to  be 
finally  disposed  of,  even  by  the  Evangelical  Alliance. 
We  appealed  from  the  judgment  of  the  Alliance,  to 
the  judgment  of  the  people  of  Great  Britain,  and  with 
the  happiest  effect.  This  controversy  with  the  Alli- 
ance might  be  made  the  subject  of  extended  remark, 
but  I  must  forbear,  except  to  say,  that  this  effort  to 
shield  the  christian  character  of  slaveholders  greatly 
served  to  open  a  way  to  the  British  ear  for  anti-sla- 
very discussion,  and  that  it  was  well  improved. 

The  fourth  and  last  circumstance  that  assisted  me 
in  getting  before  the  British  public,  was  .an  attempt 
on  the  part  of  certain  doctors  of  divinity  to  silence 
me  on  the  platform  of  the  World's  Temperance  Con- 
vention. Here  I  was  brought  into  point  blank  col- 
lision with  Eev.  Dr.  Cox,  who  made  me  the  subject 
not  only  of  bitter  remark  in  the  convention,  but  also 
of  a  long  denunciatory  letter  published  in  the  New 
York  Evangelist  and  other  American  papers.  I  re- 
plied to  the  doctor  as  well  as  I  could,  and  was  suc- 
cessful in  getting  a  respectful  hearing  before  the 
British  public,  Vv4io  are  by  nature  and  practice  ardent 


388  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

lovers  of  fair  play,  especially  in  a  conflict  between  the 
weak  and  the  strong. 

Thus  did  circumstances  favor  me,  and  favor  the 
canse  of  which  I  strove  to  be  the  advocate.  After 
such  distinguished  notice,  the  public  in  both  coun- 
tries was  compelled  to  attach  some  importance  to  my 
labors.  Bv  the  verv  ill  usas-e  I  received  at  the  hands 
of  Dr.  Cox  and  his  party,  by  the  mob  on  board  the 
Cambria,  by  the  attacks  made  upon  me  in  the  Amer- 
ican newspapers,  and  by  the  aspersions  cast  upon  me 
through  the  organs  of  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland,  I 
became  one  of  that  class  of  men,  who,  for  the  mo- 
ment, at  least,  "have  greatness  forced  upon  them." 
People  becam.e  the  more  anxious  to  hear  for  them- 
selves, and  to  judge  for  themselves,  of  the  truth 
which  I  had  to  unfold.  While,  therefore,  it  is  by  no 
means  easy  for  a  stj-anger  to  get  fairly  before  the 
British  public,  it  was  my  lot  to  accomplish  it  in  the 
easiest  manner  possible. 

Having  continued  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland 
nearlv  two  vears,  and  beino^  about  to  return  to  Amer- 
ica — not  as  I  left  it,  a  slave,  but  a  freeman  —  leading 
friends  of  the  cause  of  emancipation  in  that  country 
intimated  their  intention  to  make  me  a  testimonial, 
not  only  on  grounds  of  personal  regard  to  myself,  but 
also  to  the  cause  to  wdiich  they  were  so  ardently  de- 
voted. How  far  any  such  thing  could  have  suc- 
ceeded, I  do  not  know  ;  but  many  reasons  led  me  to 
prefer  that  my  friends  should  simply  give  me  the 
means  of  obtaining  a  printing  press  and  printing  ma- 
terials, to  enable  me  to  start  a  paper,  devoted  to  the 
interests  of  my  enslaved  and  oppressed  people.     I 


THE  PRESS  A  MEANS  OF  EEMOVING  PKEJUDICES.         389 

told  tliem  thatperliaps  the  greatest  hinderance  to  the 
adoption  of  abolition  principles  by  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  was  the  low  estimate,  everywhere  in  that 
conntry,  placed  upon  the  negro,  as  a  man  ;  that  because 
of  his  assumed  natural  inferiority,  people  reconciled 
themselves  to  his  enslavement  and  oppression,  as 
things  inevitable,  if  not  desirable.  The  grand  thing 
to  be  done,  therefore,  was  to  change  the  estimation 
in  which  the  colored  people  of  the  United  States 
were  held;  to  remove  the  prejudice  which  deprecia- 
ted and  depressed  them  ;  to  prove  them  worthy  of  a 
higher  consideration  ;  to  disprove  their  alleged  infe- 
riority, and  demonstrate  their  capacity  for  a  more  ex- 
alted civilization  than  slavery  and  prejudice  had  as- 
signed to  them.  I  farther  stated,  that,  in  my  judg- 
ment, a  tolerably  well  conducted  press,  in  the  hands 
of  persons  of  the  despised  race,  by  calling  out  the 
mental  energies  of  the  race  itself;  by  making  them 
acquainted  w- ith  their  own  latent  powers ;  by  en- 
kindling among  them  the  hope  that  for  them  there  is 
a  future  ;  by  developing  their  moral  power  ;  by  com- 
bining and  reflecting  their  talents  —  would  j^rove  a 
most  powerful  means  of  removing  prejudice,  and  of 
awakening  an  interest  in  them.  I  further  informed 
them — and  at  that  time  the  statement  was  true — that 
there  was  not,  in  the  United  States,  a  single  newspa- 
per regularly  published  by  the  colored  people ;  that 
many  attempts  had  been  made  to  establish  such  pa- 
pers ;  but  that,  up  to  that  time,  they  had  all  failed. 
These  views  I  laid  before  my  friends.  The  result 
was,  nearly  two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  were 
speedily  raised  toward  starting  my  paper.     For  this 


890  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

prompt  imd  generous  assistance,  rendered  upon  my 
bare  suggestion,  without  any  personal  efforts  on  my 
part,  I  shall  never  cease  to  feel  deeply  grateful  ;  and 
the  thought  of  fulfilling  the  noble  exj^ectations  of 
the  dear  fi'iends  who  gave  me  this  evidence  of  their 
confidence,  will  never  cease  to  be  a  motive  for  perse- 
vering exertion. 

Proposing  to  leave  England,  and  turning  my  face 
toward  America,  in  the  spring  of  184:7,  I  was  met, 
on  the  threshold,  with  something  which  painfully  re- 
minded me  of  the  kind  of  life  which  awaited  me  in 
m3^  native  land.  For  the  first  time  in  the  many  months 
spent  abroad,  I  was  met  with  proscription  on  account 
of  my  color.  A  few  weeks  before  departing  from 
England,  wdiile  in  London,  I  was  careful  to  pnrchase 
a  ticket,  and  secure  a  berth  for  returning  home,  in 
the  Cambria — the  steamer  in  which  I  left  the  United 
States  —  P'^i-yiiig  therefor  the  round  sum  of  forty 
pounds  and  nineteen  shillings  sterling.  This  was 
first  cabin  fare.  But  on  going  aboard  the  Cambria, 
I  found  thptt  the  Liverpool  agent  had  ordered  my 
berth  to  be  given  to  another,  and  had  forbidden  my 
entering  the  saloon  !  This  contemptible  conduct  met 
with  stei'n  rebuke  from  the  British  press.  For,  upon 
the  point  of  leaving  England,  I  took  occasion  to  ex- 
pose the  disgusting  tyranny,  in  the  columns  of  the 
London  Times.  That  journal,  and  other  leading 
journals  throughout  the  United  Kingdom,  held  up 
the  outrage  to  unmitigated  condemnation.  So  good 
an  opportunity  for  calling  out  a  full  expression  of 
British  sentiment  on  the  subject,  had  not  before  oc- 
curred, and  it  was  most  fully  embraced.     The  result 


THE  STING  OF  INSULT.  391 

was,  that  Mr.  Ciinard  came  out  in  a  letter  to  the  pub- 
lic journals,  assuring  them  of  his  regret  at  the  out- 
rage, and  promising  that  the  like  should  never  occur 
again  on  board  his  steamers;  and  the  like,  we  be- 
lieve, has  never  since  occurred  on  board  the  steam- 
ships of  the  Cunard  line. 

It  is  not  very  pleasant  to  be  made  the  subject  of 
such  insults ;  but  if  all  such  necessarily  resulted  as 
this  one  did,  I  should  be  very  happy  to  bear,  pa- 
tiently, many  more  than  I  have,  borne,  of  the  same 
sort.  Albeit,  the  lash  of  proscription,  to  a  man  ac- 
customed to  equal  social  position,  even  for  a  time,  as 
I  was,  has  a  sting  for  the  soul  hardly  less  severe  than 
that  which  bites  the  flesh  and  draws  the  blood  from 
the  back  of  the  plantation  slave.  It  v\^as  rather  hard, 
after  having  enjoyed  nearly  two  years  of  equal  social 
privileges  in  England,  often  dining  with  gentlemen 
of  great  literary,  social,  political,  and  religious  emi- 
nence—  never,  during  the  whole  time,  having  met 
with  a  single  word,  look,  or  gesture,  which  gave  me 
the  slightest  reason  to  think  my  color  was  an  offense 
to  anybody — now  to  be  cooped  up  in  the  stern  of  the 
Cambria,  and  denied  the  right  to  enter  the  saloon, 
lest  my  dark  presence  should  be  deemed  an  offense 
to  some  of  my  democratic  fellow-passengers.  The 
reader  will  easily  imagine  what  must  have  been  my 
feelings. 


CHAPTEE  XXY. 

VARIOUS  INCIDENTS. 

NEWSPAPER  ENTERPRISE UNEXPECTED    OPPOSITION THE  OBJECTIONS  TO  IT 

^THEIR  PLAUSIBILITY  ADMITTED MOTIVES  FOR  COMING  TO  ROCHESTER- 
DISCIPLE  OF  MR.  GARRISON CHANGE   OF  OPINION CAUSES  LEADING  TO  IT 

THE  CONSEQUENCES  OF  THE  CHANGE PREJUDICE  AGAINST  COLOR AMU- 
SING CONDESCENSION "  JIM  CROW  CARS  " COLLISIONS  WITH  CONDUCTORS 

AND  BRAKEMEN ^TRAINS  ORDERED  NOT  TO  STOP  AT  LYNN AMUSING  DO- 
MESTIC SCENE SEPARATE  TABLES  FOR  MASTER  AND  MAN PREJUDICE  UN- 
NATURAL  ILLUSTRATIONS ^THE  AUTHOR    IN    HIGH    COAtPANY ELEVATION 

OF  THE  FREE  PEOPLE  OF  COLOR PLEDGE  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 

I  HAYE  now  given  the  reader  an  imperfect  sketch 
of  nine  years'  experience  in  freedom — three  years  as 
a  common  laborer  on  the  wharves  of  New  Bedford, 
four  years  as  a  lecturer  in  Kew  England,  and  two  years 
of  semi-exile  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland.  A  single 
ray  of  light  remains  to  be  iiung  upon  my  life  during 
the  last  eight  years,  and  my  story  will  be  done. 

A  trial  awaited  me  on  my  return  from  England  to 
the  United  States,  for  which  I  was  but  very  imper- 
fectly prepared.  My  plans  for  my  then  future  use- 
fulness as  an  anti-slavery  advocate  were  all  settled. 
My  friends  in  England  had  resolved  to  raise  a  given 
sum  to  purchase  for  me  a  press  and  printing  materi- 
als; and  I  already  saw  myself  wielding  my  pen,  as 
well  as  my  voice,  in  the  great  work  of  renovating  tlie 
public  mind  J  and  building  up  a  public  sentiment 


OBJECTIONS  TO  MY  NEWSPAPER  ENTEKPRISE.  393 

which  should,  at  least,  send  slavery  and  oppression 
to  the  grave,  and  restore  to  "  liberty  and  the  pursuit 
of  happiness"  the  people  ^vith  whom  I  had  suffered, 
both  as  a  slave  and  as  a  freeman.  Intimation  had 
reached  my  friends  in  Boston  of  Avhat  I  intended  to 
do,  before  my  arrival,  and  I  was  prepared  to  find 
them  favorably  disposed  toward  my  much  cherished 
enterprise.  In  this  I  was  mistaken.  I  found  them ' 
very  earnestly  opposed  to  the  idea  of  my  starting  a 
paper,  and  for  several  reasons.  First,  the  paper  was 
not  needed ;  secondly,  it  would  interfere  with  my 
usefulness  as  a  lecturer ;  thirdly,  I  was  better  fitted 
to  speak  than  to  write  ;  fourthly,  the  paper  could  not 
succeed.  This  opposition,  from  a  quarter  so  highly^ 
esteemed,  and  to  which  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
look  for  advice  and  direction,  caused  me  not  only  to 
hesitate,  but  inclined  me  to  abandon  the  enterprise. 
All  previous  attempts  to  establish  such  a  journal  hav- 
ing failed,  I  felt  that  probably  I  should  but  add  an- 
other to  the  list  of  failures,  and  thus  contribute  an- 
other proof  of  the  mental  and  moral  deficiencies  of 
my  race.  Yery  much  that  was  said  to  me  in  respect 
to  my  imperfect  literary  acquirements,  I  felt  to  be 
most  painfully  true.  The  unsuccessful  projectors  of 
all  the  previous  colored  newspapers  were  my  superi- 
ors in  point  of  education,  and  if  they  failed,  hov/ 
could  I  hope  for  success  ?  Yet  I  did  hope  for  success, 
and  persisted  in  the  undertaking.  Some  of  my  Eu- 
glish  friends  greatly  encouraged  me  to  go  forv^^ard, 
and  I  shall  never  cease  to  be  grateful  for  their  words 
of  cheer  and  generous  deeds. 

I  can  easily  pardon  those  who  have  denounced  me 


894  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

as  ambitions  and  presumptuous,  in  view  of  my  per- 
sistence in  this  enterprise.  I  was  but  nine  years 
from  slavery.  In  point  of  mental  experience,  I  was 
but  nine  years  old.  That  one,  in  such  circumstances, 
should  aspire  to  establish  a  printing  press,  among  an 
educated  people,  might  well  be  considered,  if  not  am- 
bitious, quite  silly.  My  American  friends  looked  at 
me  with  astonishment !  "A  wood-sawyer "  oft'ering 
himself  to  the  public  as  an  editor  !  A  slave,  brought 
up  in  the  very  depths  of  ignorance,  assuming  to  in- 
struct the  highly  civilized  people  of  the  north  in  the 
principles  of  liberty,  justice,  and  humanity !  The 
thing  looked  absurd.  ISTevertheless,  I  persevered.  I 
felt  that  the  want  of  education,  great  as  it  was,  could 
be  overcome  by  study,  and  that  knowledge  would 
come  by  experience ;  and  further,  (which  was  per- 
haps the  most  controlling  consideration,)  I  thought 
that  an  intelligent  public,  knowing  my  earl}^  history, 
would  easily  pardon  a  large  share  of  the  deficiencies 
which  I  was  sure  that  my  paper  would  exhibit.  The 
most  distressing  thing,  liowever,  was  the  offense 
which  I  was  about  to  give  my  Boston  friends,  by 
what  seemed  to  them  a  reckless  disregard  of  their 
saa'e  advice.  I  am  not  snre  that  I  was  not  under  the 
influence  of  something  like  a  slavish  adoration  of  my 
Boston  friends,  and  I  labored  hard  to  convince  them 
of  the  wisdom  of  my  undertaking,  but  without  suc- 
cess. Indeed,  I  never  expect  to  succeed,  although 
time  has  answered  all  their  original  objections.  The 
paper  has  been  successful.  It  is  a  large  sheet,  cost- 
ing eighty  dollars  per  week — has  three  thousand  sub- 
scribers— has  been  published  regularly  nearly  eight  -^ 


MOTIVES  FOR  GOING  TO  ROCHESTER.  395 

years — and  bids  fair  to  stand  eight  years  longer.  At 
any  rate,  the  eiglit  years  to  come  are  as  fnll  of  prom- 
ise as  were  tlie  eight  that  are  past. 

It  is  not  to  be  concealed,  however,  that  the  main- 
tenance of  such  a  journal,  under  the  circumstances, 
has  been  a  work  of  much  difficulty  ;  and  could  all 
the  perplexity,  anxiety,  and  trouble  attending  it,  have 
been  clearly  foreseen,  I  might  have  shru.nk  from  the 
undertaking.  As  it  is,  I  rejoice  in  having  engaged 
in  the  enterprise,  and  count  it  joy  to  have  been  able 
to  suifer,  in  many  ways,  for  its  success,  and  for  the 
success  of  the  cause  to  which  it  has  been  faithfully 
devoted.  I  look  upon  the  time,  money,  and  labor 
bestowed  upon  it,  as  being  amply  rewarded,  in  the 
development  of  my  own  mental  and  moral  energies, 
and  in  the  corresponding  development  of  my  deeply 
injured  and  oppressed  people. 

From  motives  of  peace,  instead  of  issuing  my  pa- 
per in  Boston,  among  my  'New  England  friends,  I 
came  to  Rochester,  Western  New  York,  among  stran- 
p-ers,  where  the  circulation  of  mv  "oaper  could  not  in- 
terfere  with  the  local  circulation  of  the  Liberator  and 
the  Standard  ;  for  at  tliat  time  I  was,  on  the  anti-sla- 
very question,  a  faithful  disciple  of  William  Lloyd 
Garrison,  and  fully  committed  to  his  doctrine  touch- 
ing the  pro-slavery  character  of  the  constitution  of 
the  United  States,  and  the  non-voting  princijole^  of 
which  he  is  the  known  and  distinguished  advocate. 
"With  Mr.  Garrison,  I  held  it  to  be  the  first  duty  of  the 
non-slaveholdins:  states  to  dissolve  the  union  with  the 
slaveholding  states ;  and  hence  my  cry,  like  his,  was, 
*■'  j^o  union  with  slaveholders."    With  these  views,  I 


396  LIFE  AS  A  FKEEMAN. 

came  into  Western  I^ew  York  ;  and  during  the  first 
four  years  of  my  labor  here,  I  advocated  them  with 
pen  and  tongue,  according  to  the  best  of  my  abihty. 

About  four  years  ago,  upon  a  reconsideration  of  the 
whole  subject,  I  became  convinced  that  there  was  no 
necessity  for  dissolving  the  "  union  between  the  north- 
ern and  southern  states  ;  "  that  to  seek  tliis  dissolution 
was  no  part  of  my  duty  as  an  abolitionist ;  that  to  ab- 
stain from  voting,  was  to  refuse  to  exercise  a  legiti- 
mate and  powerful  means  for  abolishing  slavery  ;  and 
that  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  not  only 
contained  no  guarantees  in  favor  of  shivery,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  it  is,  in  its  letter  and  spirit,  an  anti-sla- 
very instrument,  demanding  the  abolition  of  slavery 
as  a  condition  of  its  own  existence,  as  the  supreme 
law  of  the  land. 

Here  was  sl  radical  change  in  my  opinions,  and  in 
the  action  logically  resulting  from  that  change.  To 
those  with  whom  I  had  been  in  agreement  and  in 
sympathy,  I  was  now  in  opposition.  What  they  held 
to  be  a  great  and  important  truth,  I  now  looked  upon 
as  a  dangerous  error.  A  very  painful,  and  yet  a  very 
natural,  thing  now  happened.  Those  who  could  not 
see  any  honest  reasons  for  changing  their  views,  as  I 
had  done,  could  not  easily  see  any  such  reasons  for 
my  change,  and  the  common  punishment  of  apos- 
tates was  mine. 

The  opinions  first  entertained  were  naturally  de- 
rived and  honestly  entertained,  and  I  trust  that  my 
present  opinions  have  the  same  claims  to  respect. 
Brought  directly,  when  I  escaped  from  slavery,  into 
contact  with  a  class  of  abolitionists  regarding  the 


CHANGE  OF  VIEWS.  397 

constitution  as  a  slaveliolding  instrument,  and  finding 
their  vieAvs  supported  by  tlie  united  and  entire  his- 
tory of  every  department  of  the  government,  it  is  not 
strange  that  I  assumed  the  constitution  to  be  just 
what  their  interpretation  made  it.  I  was  bound,  not 
only  by  their  superior  knowledge,  to  take  their  oj^in- 
ions  as  the  true  ones,  in  respect  to  the  subject,  but 
also  because  I  had  no  means  of  showing  their  un- 
soundness. But  for  the  responsibility  of  conducting 
a  public  journal,  and  the  necessity  imposed  upon  me 
of  meeting  opposite  views  from  abolitionists  in  this 
state,  I  should  in  all  probability  have  remained  as  ^^^' 
firm  in  my  disunion  views  as  any  other  disciple  of 
William  LI  ^yd  Garrison. 

My  new  circumstances  compelled  me  to  re-think 
the  whole  subject,  and  to  study,  with  some  care,  not 
only  the  just  and  proper  rules  of  legal  interpretation, 
but  the  origin,  design,  nature,  rights,  powers,  and  du- 
ties of  civil  government,  and  also  the  relations  which 
human  beings  sustain  to  it.  By  such  a  course  of 
thought  and  reading,  I  was  conducted  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  constitution  of  the  United  States — inau- 
gurated "  to  form  a  more  perfect  union,  establish  jus- 
tice, insure  domestic  tranquillity,  provide  for  the  com- 
mon defense,  promote  the  general  welfare,  and  se- 
cure the  blessings  of  liberty  "  —  could  not  well  have 
been  designed  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  and  per- 
j)etuate  a.  system  of  rapine  and  murder  like  slavery  ; 
especially,  as  not  one  word  can  be  found  in  the  con- 
stitution to  authorize  such  a  belief.  Then,  again,  if 
the  declared  purposes  of  an  instrument  are  to  govern 
the  meaning  of  all  its  parts  and  details,  as  they  clearly 


39 S  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

sliould,  the  constitution  of  our  country  is  our  warrant 
for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  every  state  in  the 
American  Union.  I  mean,  however,  not  to  argue,  but 
simply  to  state  my  views.  It  would  require  very 
many  pages  of  a  volume  like  this,  to  set  forth  the  ar- 
guments demonstrating  the  unconstitutionality  and  the 
complete  illegality  of  slavery  in  our  land  ;  and  as  my 
experience,  and  not  my  arguments,  is  within  the 
scope  and  contemplation  of  this  volume,  I  omit  the 
latter  and  proceed  with  the  former. 

I  will  now  ask  the  kind  reader  to  go  back  a  little 
in  my  story,  while  I  bring  up  a  thread  left  behind  for 
convenience  sake,  but  wdiicli,  small  as  it  is,  cannot 
be  properly  omitted  altogether ;  and  that  thread  is 
American  prejudice  against  color,  and  its  varied  il- 
lustrations in  my  own  experience. 

When  I  first  went  among  the  abolitionists  of  ]N^ew 
England,  and  began  to  travel,  I  found  this  prejudice 
very  strong  and  very  annoying.  The  abolitionists 
themselves  were  not  entirely  free  from  it,  and  I  could 
see  that  they  were  nobly  struggling  against  it.  In 
their  eagerness,  sometimes,  to  show  their  contempt 
for  the  feeling,  they  proved  that  they  had  not  entirely 
recovered  from  it ;  often  illustrating  the  saying,  in 
their  conduct,  that  a  man  m.ay  "  stand  up  so  straight 
as  to  lean  backward."  When  it  was  said  to  me,  "  Mr. 
Douglass,  I  will  walk  to  meeting  with  you  ;  I  am  not 
afraid  of  a  black  man,"  I  could  not  help  thinking — 
seeing  nothing  very  frightful  in  my  appearance — ■ 
"And  why  should  you  be?"  The  children  at  the 
north  had  all  been  educated  to  believe  that  if  they 
were  bad,  the  old  Hack  man  —  not  the  old  devil  — 


THE  JIM  CKOW  CAK.  399 

would  get  them  ;  and  it  was  evidence  of  some  cour- 
age, for  any  so  educated  to  get  the  better  of  their 
fears. 

The  custom  of  providing  separate  cars  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  colored  travelers,  was  established  on 
nearly  all  the  railroads  of  ^ew  England,  a  dozen 
years  ago.  Regarding  this  custom  as  fostering  the 
spirit  of  caste,  I  made  it  a  rule  to  seat  myself  in  the 
cars  for  the  accommodation  of  passengers  generally. 
Thus  seated,  I  was  sure  to  be  called  upon  to  betal^e 
myself  to  the  ^^  Jim  Croio  carP  Refusing  to  obey,  I 
was  often  dragged  out  of  my  seat,  beaten,  and  se- 
verely bruised,  by  conductors  and  brakemen.  At- 
tempting to  start  from  Lynn,  one  day,  for  Xewbury- 
j)ort,  on  the  Eastern  railroad,  I  went,  as  my  custom 
was,  into  one  of  the  best  railroad  carriages  on  the 
road.  The  seats  were  very  luxuriant  and  beautiful. 
I  was  soon  waited  upon  by  the  conductor,  and  or- 
dered out ;  whereupon  I  demanded  the  reason  for  my 
invidious  removal.  After  a  good  deal  of  parleying, 
I  was  told  that  it  was  because  I  was  black.  This  I 
denied,  and  appealed  to  the  company  to  sustain  my 
denial ;  but  they  were  evidently  unwilling  to  commit 
themselves,  on  a  point  so  delicate,  and  requiring  such 
nice  powers  of  discrimination,  for  they  remained  as 
dumb  as  death.  I  was  soon  w^aited  on  by  half  a 
dozen  fellows  of  the  baser  sort,  (just  such  as  would 
volunteer  to  take  a  bull-doo:  out  of  a  meetina;-house  in 
time  of  public  worship,)  and  told  that  I  must  move 
out  of  that  seat,  and  if  I  did  not,  they  Avould  drag  me 
out.  I  refused  to  move,  and  they  clutched  me,  head, 
neck,   and   shoulders.     But,   in   anticipation  of  the 


^00  LIFE   AS  A  FREEMAN. 

stretching  to  wliicli  I  was  about  to  be  subjected,  I 
had  interwoven  myself  among  the  seats.  In  drag- 
ging me  out,  on  this  occasion,  it  must  have  cost  the 
company  twenty-five  or  thirty  dollars,  for  I  tore  up 
seats  and  all.  So  great  was  the  excitement  in  Lynn, 
on  the  subject,  that  the  superintendent,  Mr.  Stephen 
A.  Chase,  ordered  the  trains  to  run  through  Lynn 
without  stopping,  while  I  remained  in  that  town ; 
and  this  ridiculous  farce  was  enacted.  For  several 
days  the  trains  went  dashing  through  Lynn  without 
stopping.  At  the  same  time  that  they  excluded  a 
free  colored  man  from  their  cars,  this  same  company 
allowed  slaves,  in  comj^any  with  their  masters  and 
mistresses,  to  ride  unmolested. 

After  many  battles  with  the  railroad  conductors, 
and  being  roughly  handled  in  not  a  few  instances, 
proscription  was  at  last  abandoned ;  and  the  "  Jim 
Crow  car "  —  set  up  for  the  degradation  of  colored 
people — is  nowhere  found  in  Xew  England.  This 
result  was  not  brought  about  without  the  interven- 
tion of  the  people,  and  the  threatened  enactment  of 
a  law  compelling  railroad  companies  to  respect  the 
rights  of  travelers.  Hon.  Charles  Francis  Adams 
performed  signal  service  in  the  Massachusetts  legis- 
lature, in  bringing  about  this  reformation ;  and  to 
him  the  colored  citizens  of  that  state  are  deeply  in- 
debted. 

Although  often  annoyed,  and  sometimes  outraged, 
by  this  prejudice  against  color,  I  am  indebted  to  it 
for  many  passages  of  quiet  amusement.  A  half-cured 
subject  of  it  is  sometimes  di'iven  into  awkward  straits, 


AMUSING  SCEiSfE.  401 

especially  if  he  happens  to  get  a  genuine  specimen 
of  the  race  into  his  house. 

In  the  summer  of  1843,  I  was  traveling  and  lectur- 
ing, in  company  with  William  A.  White,  Esq., 
through  the  state  of  Indiana.  Anti-slavery  friends 
were  not  very  abundant  in  Indiana,  at  that  time,  and 
beds  were  not  more  plentiful  than  friends.  We  often 
slept  out,  in  preference  to  sleeping  in  the  houses,  at 
some  points.  At  the  close  of  one  of  our  meetings,  we 
were  invited  home  with  a  kindly-disposed  old  farmer, 
who,  in  the  generous  enthusiasm  of  the  moment, 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  he  had  but  one  spare 
bed,  and  that  his  guests  were  an  ill-matched  pair. 
All  vrent  OR  pretty  well,  till  near  bed  time,  when 
signs  of  uneasiness  began  to  show  themselves,  among 
the  unsophisticated  sons  and  daughters.  White  is 
remarkably  fine  looking,  and  very  evidently  a  born 
gentleman  ;  the  idea  of  putting  us  in  the  same  bed 
w^as  hardly  to  be  tolerated  ;  and  yet,  there  we  were, 
and  but  the  one  bed  for  us,  and  that,  by  the  way,  was 
in  the  same  room  occupied  by  the  other  members  of 
the  family.  White,  as  well  as  I,  perceived  the  diffi- 
culty, for  yonder  slept  the  old  folks,  there  the  sons, 
and  a  little  farther  along  slept  the  daughters  ;  and 
but  one  other  bed  remained.  AVho  should  have  this 
bed,  was  the  puzzling  question.  There  was  some 
whisj^ering  between  the  old  folks,  some  confused  looks 
among  the  young,  as  the  time  for  going  to  bed  ap- 
proached. After  witnessing  the  confusion  as  long  as 
I  liked,  I  relieved  the  kindly-disposed  family  by  play- 
fally  saying,  "Friend  White,  having  got  entirely  rid  of 
my  prejudice  against  color,  I  think,  as  a  proof  of  it,  I 

26 


402  .  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAJSr. 

must  allow  you  to  sleep  witli  me  to-niglit/'  White 
kept  up  the  joke,  by  seeming  to  esteem  himself  the 
favored  party,  aud  thus  the  difficulty  was  removed. 
If  we  went  to  a  hotel,  and  called  for  dinner,  the  land- 
lord was  sure  to  set  one  table  for  White  and  another 
for  me,  always  taking  him  to  be  master,  and  me  the 
servant.  Large  eyes  were  generally  made  when  the 
order  was  given  to  remove  the  dishes  from  my  table 
to  that  of  White's.  In  those  days,  it  was  thought 
strange  that  a  white  man  and  a  colored  man  could 
dine  peaceably  at  the  same  table^  and  in  some  parts 
the  strangeness  of  such  a  sight  has  not  entirely  sub- 
sided. 

Some  people  will  have  it  that  there  is  a  natural,  an 
inherent,  and  an  invincible  repugnance  in  the  breast 
of  the  white  race  toward  dark-colored  people ;  and 
some  very  intelligent  colored  4nen  think  that  their 
proscription  is  owing  solely  to  the  color  which  na- 
ture has  given  them.  They  hold  that  they  are  rated 
according  to  their  color,  and  that  it  is  impossible  for 
white  people  ever  to  look  upon  dark  races  of  men,  or 
men  belonging  to  the  African  race,  with  other  than 
feelings  of  aversion.  My  experience,  both  serious 
and  mirthful,  combats  this  conclusion.  Leaving  out 
of  sight,  for  a  moment,  grave  facts,  to  this  point, 
I  will  state  one  or  two,  which  illustrate  a  very  inter- 
esting feature  of  American  character  as  well  as  Amer- 
ican prejudice.  Biding  from  Boston  to  Albany,  a 
few  years  ago,  I  found  myself  in  a  large  car,  well 
filled  with  passengers.  The  seat  next  to  me  was 
about  the  only  vacant  one.  At  every  stopping  place 
we  took  in  new  passengers,  all  of  whom,  on  reaching 


—    -^  AN  INcroENT.  403 

tlie  seat  next  to  me,  cast  a  disdainful  glance  upon  it, 
and  passed  to  another  car,  leaving  me  in  the  full  en- 
joyment of  a  whole  form.  For  a  time,  I  did  not 
know  but  that  my  riding  there  was  prejudicial  to  the 
interest  of  the  railroad  company.  A  circumstance 
occurred,  however,  which  gave  me  an  elevated  posi- 
tion at  once.  Among  the  passengers  on  this  train 
was  Gov.  George  N.  Briggs.  I  was  not  acquainted 
with  him,  and  had  no  idea  that  I  was  known  to  him. 
Known  to  him,  however,  I  was,  for  upon  observing 
me,  the  governor  left  his  place,  and  making  his  way 
toward  me,  respectfully  asked  the  privilege  of  a  seat 
by  my  side ;  and  upon  introducing  himself,  we  en- 
tered into  a  conversation  very  pleasant  and  instruct- 
ive to  me.  The  despised  seat  now  became  honored. 
His  excellency  had  removed  all  the  prejudice  against 
sitting  by  the  side  of  a  negro ;  and  nj)on  his  leaving 
it,  as  he  did,  on  reaching  Pittsfield,  there  were  at 
least  one  dozen  applicants  for  the  place.  The  gov- 
ernor had,  without  changing  my  skin  a  single  shade, 
made  the  place  respectable  which  before  was  des- 
picable. 

A  similar  incident  happened  to  me  once  on  the 
Boston  and  'New  Bedford  railroad,  and  the  leading 
party  to  it  has  since  been  governor  of  the  state  of 
Massachusetts.  I  allude  to  Col.  John  Henry  Clifford. 
Lest  the  reader  may  fancy  I  am  aiming  to  elevate 
myself,  by  claiming  too  much  intimacy  with  great 
men,  I  must  state  that  my  only  acquaintance  with 
Col.  Clifford  was  formed  while  I  was  his  hired  sei'vant 
during  the  first  winter  of  my  escape  from  slavery.  I 
owe  it  him  to  say,  that  in  that  relation  I  found  him 


404  LIFE  AS  A  FREEMAN. 

always  kind  and  gentlemanly.  But  to  the  incident. 
I  entered  a  car  at  Boston,  for  ITew  Bedford,  which, 
with  the  exception  of  a  single  seat,  was  full,  and 
found  I  must  occupy  this,  or  stand  up,  during  the 
journey.  Having  no  mind  to  do  this,  I  stepped  up 
to  the  man  having  the  next  seat,  and  who  had  a  few 
parcels  on  the  seat,  and  gently  asked  leave  to  take  a 
seat  by  his  side.  My  fellow-passenger  gave  me  a 
look  made  up  of  reproach  and  indignation,  and  asked 
me  why  I  should  come  to  that  particular  seat.  I  as- 
sured him,  in  the  gentlest  manner,  that  of  all  others 
this  was  the  seat  for  me.  Finding  that  I  was  actu- 
ally about  to  sit  down,  he  sang  out,  "  O  !  stop,  stop  ! 
and  let  me  get  out !  "  Suiting  the  action  to  the  word, 
up  the  agitated  man  got,  and  sauntered  to  the  other 
end  of  the  car,  and  was  compelled  to  stand  for  most 
of  the  way  tliereafter.  Half-way  to  I^ew  Bedford,  or 
more,  Col.  Clifibrd,  recognizing  me,  left  his  seat,  and 
not  having  seen  me  before  since  I  had  ceased  to  wait 
on  him,  (in  everything  except  hard  arguments  against 
his  pro-slavery  position,)  apparently  forgetful  of  his 
rank,  manifested,  in  greeting  me,  something  of  the 
feeling  of  an  old  friend.  This  demonstration  was  not 
lost  on  the  gentleman  whose  dignity  I  had,  an  hour 
before,  most  seriously  offended.  Col.  Clifford  was 
■known  to  be  about  the  most  aristocratic  gentleman  in 
Bristol  county  ;  and  it  was  evidently  thought  that  I 
must  be  somebody,  else  I  should  not  have  been  thus 
noticed,  by  a  person  so  distinguished.  Sure  enough,  af- 
tfer  Col.  Clifford  left  me^  I  found  myself  surrounded  with 
friends  ;  and  among  the  number,  my  offended  friend 
stood  nearest,  and  with  an  apology  for  his  rudeness, 


ELEVATION  OF  THE  FREE  PEOPLE  OF  COLOR.     405 

whicli  I  could  not  resist,  altliougli  it  was  one  of  the 
lamest  ever  offered.  With  su'ch  facts  as  these  before 
me  —  and  I  have  many  of  them  —  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  pride  and  fashion  have  much  to  do  with 
the  treatment  commonly  extended  to  colored  people 
in  the  United  States.  I  once  heard  a  very  plain  man 
say,  (and  he  was  cross-eyed,  and  awkwardly  flung  to- 
gether in  other  respects,)  that  he  should  be  a  hand- 
some man  when  public  opinion  shall  be  changed. 

Since  I  have  been  editing  and  publishing  a  journal ' 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  progress,  I  have 
had  my  mind  more  directed  to  the  condition  and  cir- 
cumstances of  the  free  colored  people  than  when  I 
was  the  agent  of  an  abolition  society.  The  result  has 
been  a  corresponding  change  in  the  disposition  of  my 
time  and  labors.  I  have  felt  it  to  be  a  part  of  my 
mission  —  under  a  gracious  Providence  —  to  impress 
my  sable  brothers  in  this  country  with  the  convic- 
tion that,  notwithstanding  the  ten  thousand  discour- 
agements and  the  powerful  hinderances,  which  beset 
their  existence  in  this  country  —  notwithstanding  the 
blood-written  history  of  Africa,  and  her  children, 
from  whom  we  have  descended,  or  the  clouds  and 
darkness,  (whose  stillness  and  gloom  are  made  only 
more  awful  by  w^rathful  thunder  and  lightning,)  now 
overshadowing  them — progress  is  yet  possible,  and 
bright  skies  shall  yet  shine  upon  their  j)athway  ;  and 
that  "  Ethiopia  shall  yet  reach  forth  her  hand  unto 
God." 

Believing  that  one  of  the  best  means  of  emancipa- 
ting the  slaves  of  the  south  is  to  improve  and  elevate 
the  character  of  the  free  colored  people  of  the  north 


4:06  LIFE  AS  A  FEEEMAN. 

I  shall  labor  in  the  future,  as  I  have  labored  in  the 
past,  to  promote  the  moral,  social,  religious,  and  in- 
tellectual elevation  of  the  free  colored  people  ;  never 
forgetting  my  own  humble  origin,  nor  refusing,  while 
Heaven  lends  me  ability,  to  use  my  voice,  my  pen,  or 
my  vote,  to  advocate  the  great  and  primary  work  of 
the  universal  and  unconditional  emancipation  of  my 
entire  race. 


APPENDIX, 

CONTAINING  EXTRA  CTS  FROM  SPEECHES,  ETC  * 


RECEPTION  SPEECH 

AT  FINSBURY  CHAPEL,  MOORFIELDS,  ENGLAND,  MAY  12,   1846. 

Mr.  Douglass  rose  amid  loud  cheers,  and  said:  I  feel  exceed- 
ingly glad  of  the  opportunity  now  afforded  me  of  presenting  the 
claims  of  my  brethren  in  bonds  in  the  United  States,  to  so  many  in 
London  and  from  various  parts  of  Britain,  who  have  assembled  here 
on  the  present  occasion.  I  have  nothing  to  commend  me  to  your 
consideration  in  the  way  of  learning,  nothing  in  the  way  of  educa- 
tion, to  entitle  me  to  your  attention ;  and  you  are  aware  that  sla- 
very is  a  very  bad  school  for  rearing  teachers  of  morality  and  reli- 
gion. Twenty-one  years  of  my  life  have  been  spent  in  slavery — 
personal  slavery — surrounded  by  degrading  influences,  such  as  can 
exist  nowhere  beyond  the  pale  of  slavery ;  and  it  will  not  be  strange, 
if  under  such  circumstances,  I  should  betray,  in  what  I  have  to  say 
to  3'ou,  a  deficiency  of  that  refinement  which  is  seldom  or  ever 
found,  except  among  persons  that  have  experienced  superior  advan- 
tages to  those  which  I  have  enjoyed.  But  I  will  take  it  for  granted 
that  you  know  something  about  the  degrading  influences  of  sla- 
very, and  that  you  will  not  expect  great  things  from  me  this  eve- 
ning, but  simply  such  facts  as  I  may  be  able  to  advance  immedi- 
ately in  connection  with  my  own  experience  of  slavery. 

*  Mr.  Douglass'  published  speeches  alone,  would  fill  two  volumes  of  the  size  of  this. 
Oui-  space  will  only  permit  the  iusertion  of  the  extracts  which  follow ;  and  which, 
for  originality  of  thought,  beauty  and  force  of  expression,  and  for  impassioned,  in- 
digaatory  elo<j[uence,  have  seldom  been  e<iualed. 


408  APPENDIX. 

Now,  what  is  this  system  of  slavery?  This  is  the  subject  of  i/iy 
lecture  this  evening — what  is  the  character  of  this  institution  ?  I 
am  about  to  answer  the  inquiry,  what  is  American  slavery?  I  do 
this  the  more  readily,  since  I  have  found  persons  in  this  country 
who  have  identified  the  term  slavery  with  that  which  I  think  it  is 
not,  and  in  some  instances,  I  have  feared,  in  so  doing,  have  rather 
(unwittingly,  I  know,)  detracted  much  from  the  horror  with  which 
the  term  slaveiy  is  contemplated.  It  is  common  in  this  country  to 
distinguish  every  bad  thing  by  the  name  of  slavery.  Intemper- 
ance is  slavery  ;  to  be  deprived  of  the  right  to  vote  is  slavery,  saj-s 
one;  to  have  to  work  hard  is  slavery,  sajs  another;  and  I  do  not 
know  but  that  if  we  should  let  them  go  on,  they  would  say  that  to 
eat  when  we  are  hungry,  to  walk  when  we  desire  to  have  exercise, 
or  to  minister  to  our  necessities,  or  have  necessities  at  all,  is  slavery. 
I  do  not  wish  for  a  moment  to  detract  from  the  horror  with  which 
the  evil  of  intemperance  is  contemplated — not  at  all ;  nor  do  I  wish 
to  throw  the  slightest  obstruction  in  the  way  of  any  political  free- 
dom that  any  class  of  persons  in  this  country  may  desire  to  obtain. 
But  I  am  here  to  say  that  I  think  the  term  slavery  is  sometimes 
abused  by  identifj^ing  it  with  that  which  it  is  not.  Slavery  in  the 
United  States  is  the  granting  of  that  power  by  which  one  man  ex- 
ercises and  enforces  a  right  of  property  in  the  body  and  soul  of  an- 
other. The  condition  of  a  slave  is  simply  that  of  the  brute  beast. 
He  is  a  piece  of  property  —  a  marketable  commodity,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  law,  to  be  bought  or  sold  at  the  will  and  caprice  of 
the  master  who  claims  him  to  be  his  property ;  he  is  spoken  of, 
thought  of>  and  treated  as  property.  His  own  good,  his  conscience, 
his  intellect,  his  affections,  are  all  set  aside  by  the  master.  The 
will  and  the  wishes  of  the  master  are  the  law  of  the  slave.  He  is 
as  much  a  piece  of  property  as  a  horse.  If  he  is  fed,  he  is  fed  be- 
cause he  is  property.  If  he  is  clothed,  it  is  with  a  view  to  the  in- 
crease of  his  value  as  property.  Whatever  of  comfort  is  necessary 
to  him  for  his  body  or  soul  that  is  inconsistent  with  his  being  prop- 
erty, is  carefully  wrested  from  him,  not  only  by  public  opinion,  but 
by  the  law  of  the  country.  He  is  carefully  deprived  of  everything 
that  tends  in  the  slightest  degree  to  detract  from  his  value  as  prop- 
erty. He  is  deprived  of  education.  God  has  given  him  an  intel- 
lect ;  the  slaveholder  declares  it  shall  not  be  cultivated.  If  his 
moral  perception  leads  him  in  a  course  contrary  to  his  value  as 


RECEPTION    SPEECH.  409 

property,  the  slaveholder  declares  he  shall  not  exercise  it.     The 
marriage  institution  cannot  exist  among  slaves,  and  one -sixth  of  the 
population  of  democratic  America  is  denied  its  privileges  by  the 
law  of  the  land.     What  is  to  be  thought  of  a  nation  boasting  of  its 
liberty,  boasting  of  its  humanity,  boasting  of  its  chinstianity,  boast- 
ing of  its  love  of  justice  and  purity,  and  yet  having  within  its  own 
borders  three  millions  of  persons  denied  by  law  the  right  of  mar- 
riage ? —  what  must  be  the  condition  of  that  people?     I  need  not 
lift  up  the  veil  by  giving  you  any  experience  of  ray  own.     Every 
one  that  can  put  two  ideas  together,  must  see  the  most  fearful  re- 
sults from  such  a  state  of  things  as  I  have  just  mentioned.     If  any 
of  these  three  millions  find  for  themselves  companions,  and  prove 
themselves  honest,  upright,  virtuous  persons  to  each  other,  yet  in 
these  cases  —  few  as  I  am  bound  to  confess  they  are  —  the  virtuous 
live  in  constant  apj^rehension  of  being  torn  asimder  by  the  merci- 
less men-stealers  that  claim  them  as  their  property.     This  is  Amer- 
ican slavery  ;  no  marriage — no  education — the  light  of  the  gospel 
shut  out  from  the  dark  mind  of  the  bondman — and  he  forbidden  by 
law  to  learn  to  read.     If  a  mother  shall  teach  her  children  to  read, 
the  law  in  Louisiana  proclaims  that  she  may  be  hanged  by  the  neck. 
If  the  father  attempt  to  give  his  son  a  knowledge  of  letters,  he  may 
be  punished  by  the  whip  in  one  instance,  and  in  another  be  killed, 
at  the  discretion  of  the  court.     Three  millions  of  people  shut  out 
from  the  light  of  knowledge !     It  is  easy  for  you  to  conceive  the 
evil  that  must  result  from  such  a  state  of  things, 

I  now  come  to  the  physical  evils  of  slavery.  I  do  not  wish  to 
dwell  at  length  upon  these,  but  it  seems  right  to  speak  of  them,  not 
so  much  to  influence  your  minds  on  this  question,  as  to  let  the  slave- 
holders of  America  know  that  the  curtain  which  conceals  their 
crimes  is  being  lifted  abroad;  that  we  are  opening  the  dark  cell, 
and  leading  the  people  into  the  horrible  recesses  of  what  they  are 
pleased  to  call  their  domestic  institution,  "We  want  them  to  know 
that  a  knowledge  of  their  whippings,  their  seourgings,  their  brand- 
ings, their  ehainings,  is  not  confined  to  their  plantations,  but  that 
some  nesrro  of  theirs  has  broken  loose  from  his  chains — has  burst 
through  the  dark  incrustation  of  slavery,  and  is  now  exposing  their 
deeds  of  deep  damnation  to  the  gaze  of  the  christian  people  of 
England. 

The  slaveholders  resort  to  all  kinds  of  cruelty.     If  I  were  dis- 
posed, I  have  matter  enough  to  interest  you  on  this  question  for 


410  APPENDIX. 

five  or  six  evenings,  but  I  will  not  dwell  at  length  upon  these  cru- 
elties. Suffice  it  to  say,  that  all  the  peculiar  modes  of  torture  that 
were  resorted  to  in  th«  West  India  islands,  arc  resorted  to,  I  be- 
lieve, even  more  frequently,  in  the  United  States  of  America.  Star- 
vation, the  blood}^  whip,  the  chain,  the  gag,  the  thumb-screw,  eat- 
hauliug,  the  cat-o'-nine-tails,  the  dungeon,  the  blood-hound,  are  all 
in  requisition  to  keep  the  slave  in  his  condition  as  a  slave  in  the 
United  States.  If  any  one  has  a  doubt  upon  this  point,  I  would 
ask  him  to  read  the  chapter  on  slavery  in  Dickens's  Notes  on  Amer- 
ica. If  any  man  has  a  doubt  upon  it,  I  have  here  the  "  testimony 
of  a  thousand  witnesses,"  which  I  can  give  at  any  length,  all  going 
to  prove  the  truth  of  my  statement.  The  blood-hound  is  regularly 
trained  in  the  United  States,  and  adv-ertisements  are  to  be  found  in 
the  southern  papei's  of  the  Union,  from  persons  advertising  them- 
selves as  blood-hound  trainers,  and  offering  to  hunt  down  slaves  at 
fifteen  dollars  a  piece,  recommending  their  hounds  as  the  fleetest  in 
the  neighborhood,  never  known  to  fail.  Advertisements  are  from 
time  to  time  inserted,  stating  that  slaves  have  escaped  with  iron 
collars  about  their  necks,  with  bands  of  iron  about  their  feet,  marked 
■with  the  lash,  branded  with  red-hot  iron^  the  initials  of  their  mas- 
ter's name  burned  into  their  flesh  ;  and  the  masters  advertise  the 
fact  of  their  being  thus  branded  with  their  own  signature,  thereby 
proving  to  the  world,  that,  however  damning  it  may  appear  to 
non-slaveholders,  such  practices  are  not  regarded  discreditable 
among  the  slaveholders  themselves-  Why,  I  believe  if  a  man 
should  brand  his  horse  in  this  country  —  burn  the  initials  of  his 
name  into  any  of  his  cattle,  and  publish  the  ferocious  deed  here — 
that  the  united  execrations  of  christians  in  Britain  would  descend 
upon  him.  Yet,  in  the  United  States,  human  beings  are  thus  brand- 
ed.    As  Whittier  says 


"...    Our  countrymen  in  chains. 
The  whip  on  woman's  shrinking  flesh. 
Our  soil  yet  reddening  with  the  stains 

Caught  from  her  scourgings  warm  and  fresh." 

The  elave-dealer  boldly  publishes  his  infamous  acts  to  the  world. 
Of  all  things  that  have  been  said  of  slavery  to  which  exception  has 
been  taken  by  slaveholders,  this,  the  charge  of  cruelty,  stands  fore- 
most, and  yet  there  is  no  charge  capable  of  clearer  demonstration, 
tbiin  that  of  the  most  barbarous  inhumanity  on  the  part  of  the  slave- 


RECEPTION   SPEECH.  411 

aolders  toward  tteir  slaves.  And  all  this  is  necessary;  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  resort  to  these  cruelties,  in  order  to  onake  the  slave  a  slave, 
and  to  keep  him  a  slave.  Why,  my  experience  all  goes  to  prove  the 
truth  of  what  you  will  call  a  marvelous  proposition,  that  the  bet- 
ter you  treat  a  slave,  the  more  you  destroy  his  value  as  a  slave,  and 
enhance  the  probability  of  his  eluding  the  grasp  of  the  slaveholder; 
the  more  kindly  you  treat  him,  the  more  wretched  you  make  him, 
while  you  keep  him  in  the  condition  of  a  slave.  My  experience,  I 
say,  confirms  the  truth  of  this  propostion.  When  I  was  treated  ex- 
ceedingly ill ;  when  my  back  was  being  scourged  daily ;  when  I  was 
whipped  within  an  inch  of  my  life — life  was  all  I  cared  foi*.  "Spare 
my  life,"  was  my  continual  prayer.  When  I  was  looking  for  the 
blow  about  to  be  inflicted  upon  my  head,  I  was  not  thinking  of  my 
liberty ;  it  was  my  life.  But,  as  soon  as  the  blow  was  not  to  be 
feared,  then  came  the  longing  for  liberty.  If  a  slave  has  a  bad  mas- 
ter, his  ambition  is  to  get  a  better ;  when  he  gets  a  better,  he  as- 
pires to  have  the  best ;  and  when  he  gets  the  best,  he  aspires  to  be 
his  own  master.  But  the  slave  must  be  brutalized  to  keep  him  as  a 
slave.  The  slaveholder  feels  this  necessity.  I  admit  this  necessity. 
If  it  be  right  to  hold  slaves  at  all,  it  is  right  to  hold  them  in  the 
only  way  in  which  they  can  be  held;  and  this  can  be  done  only  by 
shutting  out  the  light  of  education  from  their  minds,  and  brutali- 
zing their  persons.  The  whip,  the  chain,  the  gag,  the  thumb-screw, 
the  blood-hound,  the  stocks,  and  all  the  other  bloody  paraphernalia 
of  the  slave  system,  are  indispensably  necessary  to  the  relation  of 
master  and  slave.  The  slave  must  be  subjected  to  these,  or  he 
ceases  to  be  a  slave.  Let  him  know  that  the  whip  is  bui'ned;  that 
the  fetters  have  been  turned  to  some  useful  and  profitable  employ- 
ment ;  that  the  chain  is  no  longer  for  his  limbs ;  that  the  blood- 
hound is  no  longer  to  be  put  upon  his  track ;  that  his  master's  au- 
thority over  him  is  no  longer  to  be  enforced  by  taking  his  life — and 
immediately  he  walks  out  from  the  house  of  bondage  and  asserts 
his  freedom  as  a  man.  The  slaveholder  finds  it  necessary  to  have 
these  implements  to  keep  the  slave  in  bondage  ;  finds  it  necessary 
to  be  able  to  say,  "  Unless  you  do  so  and  so;  unless  you  do  as  I  bid 
you — I  will  take  away  your  life !  " 

Some  of  the  most  awful  scenes  of  cruelty  are  constantly  taking 
place-in  the  middle  states  of  the  Union.  We  have  in  those  states 
what  are  called  the  slave-breeding  states.  Allow  me  to  speak 
plainly.     Although  it  is  harrowing  to  your  feelings,  it  is  necessary 


412  APPENDIX. 

that  the  facts  of  the  case  should  be  stated.  We  have  in  the  United 
States  slave-breeding  states.  The  very  state  from  which  the  minis- 
ter from  our  court  to  yours  comes,  is  one  of  these  states — Maryland, 
where  men,  women,  and  children  are  reared  for  the  market,  just  as 
horses,  sheep,  and  swine  are  raised  for  the  market.  Slave-rearing 
is  there  looked  upon  as  a  legitimate  trade;  the  law  sanctions  it, 
public  opinion  upholds  it,  the  church  does  not  condemn  it.  It  goes 
on  in  all  its  bloody  horrors,  sustained  by  the  auctioneer's  block.  If 
you  would  see  the  cruelties  of  this  system,  hear  the  following  nar- 
rative. Not  long  since  the  following  scene  occurred.  A  slave- 
woman  and  a  slave^man  had  united  themselves  as  man  and  wife  in 
the  absence  of  any  law  to  protect  them  as  man  and  wife.  They 
had  liv^d  together  by  the  permission,  not  by  right,  of  their  master, 
and  they  had  reared  a  family.  The  master  found  it  expedient,  and 
for  his  interest,  to  sell  them.  He  did  not  ask  them  their  wishes 
in  regard  to  the  matter  at  all ;  they  were  not  consulted.  The  man 
and  woman  were  brought  to  the  auctioneer's  block,  under  the  sound 
of  the  hammer.  The  cry  was  raised,  "  Here  goes;  who  bids  cash  ? " 
Think  of  it — a  man  and  wife  to  be  sold!  The  woman  was  placed 
on  the  auctioneer's  block ;  her  limbs,  as  is  customary,  were  brutally 
exposed  to  the  purchasers,  who  examined  her  with  all  the  freedom 
with  which  they  would  examine  a  horse.  There  stood  the  husband, 
powerless  ;  no  i*ight  to  his  wife ;  the  master's  right  preeminent. 
She  was  sold.  He  was  next  brought  to  the  auctioneer's  block.  His 
eyes  followed  his  wife  in  the  distance  ;  and  he  looked  beseechingly, 
imploringly,  to  the  man  that  had  bought  his  wife,  to  bu}^  him  also. 
But  he  was  at  length  bid  off  to  another  person.  He  was  about  to 
be  separated  forever  from  her  he  loved.  No  word  of  his,  no  work 
of  his,  could  save  him  from  this  separation.  He  asked  permission 
of  his  new  master  to  go  and  take  the  hand  of  his  wife  at  parting. 
It  was  denied  him.  In  the  agony  of  his  soul  he  rushed  from  the 
man  who  had  just  bought  him,  that  he  might  take  a  farewell  of  his 
wife ;  but  his  way  was  obstructed,  he  was  struck  over  the  head  with 
a  loaded  whip,  and  was  held  for  a  moment;  but  his  agony  was  too 
great.  When  he  was  let  go,  ho  fell  a  corpse  at  the  feet  of  his  mas- 
ter. His  heart  was  broken.  Such  scenes  are  the  every-da}'  fruits 
of  American  slavery.  Some  two  j^ears  since,  the  Hon.  Seth  M. 
Gates,  an  anti-slavery  gentleman  of  the  state  of  New  York,  a  rep- 
resentative in  the  congress  of  the  United  States,  told  me  he  saw 
with  his  own  eyes  the  following  circumstance.     In  the  national 


RECEPTION    SPEECH.  4:13 

District  of  Columbia,  over  which  the  star-spangled  emblem  is  con- 
Btantly  waving,  where  orators  are  ever  holding   forth  on  the  sub- 
ject of  American  liberty,  American  democracy,  American  republi- 
canism, there  are  two  slave  prisons.     When  going  across  a  bridge, 
leading   to   one   of  these  prisons,  he  saw  a  young  woman  run  oui, 
bare-footed  and  bare-headed,  and  with  very  little  clothing  on.    She 
was  running  with  all  speed  to  the  bridge  he  was  approaching.     His 
eye  was  fixed  upon  her,  and  he  stopped  to  see  what  was  the  mat- 
ter.    He  had  not  paused  long  before  he  saw  three  men  run  out  af- 
ter lier.     He  now  knew  what  the  nature  of  the  case  was ;  a  slave 
escaping  from  her  chains — a  young  woman,  a  sister — escaping  from 
the  bondage  in  which  she  had  been  held.     She  made  her  way  to  the 
bridge,  but  had  not  reached  it,  ere  from  the  Virginia  side  there 
came  two  slaveholders.     As  soon  as  they  saw  them,  her  pursuers 
called  out,   "Stop  her!"     True  to  their  Virginian  instincts,  they 
came  to  the  rescue  of  their  brother  kidnappers,  across  the  bridge. 
The  poor  girl  now  saw  that  there  was  no  chance  for  her.     It  was  a 
trying  time.  She  knew  if  she  went  back,  she  must  be  a  slave  forever 
— she  must  be  dragged  down  to  the  scenes  of  pollution  which  the 
flaveholders   continually  provide   for  most  of  the  poor,  sinking, 
wretched   young   women,   whom   they  call  their  property.      She 
formed  her  resolution  ;  and  just  as  those  who  were  about  to  take 
her,  were  going  to  put  hands  upon  her,  to  drag  her  back,  she  leaped 
over  the  balustrades  of  the  bridge,  and  down  she  went  to  rise  no 
more.     She  chose  death,  rather  than  to  go  back  into  the  hands  of 
those  christian  slaveholders  from  whom  she  had  escaped. 

Can  it  be  possible  that  such  things  as  these  exist  in  the  United 
States  ?  Are  not  these  the  exceptions  ?  Are  any  such  scenes  as  this 
general  ?  Are  not  such  deeds  condemned  by  the  law  and  denounced 
by  public  opinion  ?  Let  me  read  to  you  a  few  of  the  laws  of  the 
slaveholding  states  of  America.  I  think  no  better  exposure  of  sla- 
very can  be  made  than  is  made  by  the  laws  of  the  states  in  which 
slavery  exists.  I  prefer  reading  the  laws  to  making  any  statement 
in  confirmation  of  what  I  have  said  myself;  for  the  slaveholders 
cannot  object  to  this  testimony,  since  it  is  the  calm,  the  cool,  the 
deliberate  enactment  of  their  wisest  heads,  of  their  most  clear- 
sighted, their  own  constituted  representatives.  "  If  more  than 
seven  slaves  together  are  found  in  any  road  without  a  white  per- 
son, twenty  lashes  a  piece ;  for  visiting  a  plantation  without  a  writ- 
ten pass,  ten  lashes  ;  for  letting  loose  a  boat  from  where  it  is  made 


414  APPENDIX. 

fast,  thirty-nine  lashes  for  the  first  offense;  and  for  the  second, 
shall  have  cut  off  from  his  head  one  ear ;  for  keeping  or  carrying 
a  club,  tliirty-nine  lashes;  for  having  any  article  for  sale,  without 
a  ticket  from  his  master,  ten  lashes ;  for  traveling  in  any  other  than 
the  most  usual  and  accustomed  road,  when  going  alone  to  any  place, 
forty  lashes;  for  traveling  in  the  night  without  a  pass,  forty  lashes." 
I  am  afraid  you  do  not  understand  the  awful  character  of  these 
lashes.  You  must  bring  it  before  your  mind.  A  human  being  in 
a  perfect  state  of  nudity,  tied  hand  and  foot  to  a  stake,  and  a  strong 
man  standing  behind  with  a  heavy  whip,  knotted  at  the  end,  each 
blow  cutting  into  the  flesh,  and  leaving  the  warm  blood  dripping 
to  the  feet;  and  for  these  trifles.  "For  being  found  in  another  per- 
son's negro-quarters,  forty  lashes  ;  for  hunting  with  dogs  in  the 
the  woods,  thirty  lashes;  for  being  on  horseback  without  the  writ- 
ten permission  of  his  master,  twenty-five  lashes ;  for  riding  or  go- 
ing abroad  in  the  night,  or  riding  horses  in  the  day  time,  without 
leave,  a  slave  may  be  whipped,  cropped,  or  branded  in  the  cheek 
with  the  letter  R,  or  otherwise  punished,  such  punishment  not 
extending  to  life,  or  so  as  to  render  him  unfit  for  labor."  The  laws  | 
referred  to,  may  be  found  by  consulting  Brevard's^  Digest ;  Hay-  \ 
wood's  Manual ;  Virginia  Revised  Code  ;  Prince's  Digest ;  Missouri  \  ^ 
Laws;  Mississippi  Revised  Code.  A  man,  for  going  to  visit  his  \ 
brethren,  without  the  permission  of  his  master  —  and  in  many  in- 
stances he  may  not  have  that  permission  ;  his  master,  from  caprice 
or  other  reasons,  may  not  be  willing  to  allow  it — may  be  caught  on 
his  way,  dragged  to  a  post,  the  branding-iron  heated,  and  the  name  . 
of  his  master  or  the  letter  R  branded  into  his  cheek  or  on  his  fore- 
head. They  treat  slaves  thus,  on  the  principle  that  they  must  pun- 
ish for  light  offenses,  in  order  to  prevent  the  commission  of  larger 
ones.  I  wish  you  to  mark  that  in  the  single  state  of  Virginia  there 
are  seventy-one  crimes  for  which  a  colored  man  may  be  executed ; 
while  there  are  only  three  of  these  crimes,  which,  when  committed 
by  a  white  man,  will  subject  him  to  that  punishment.  There  are 
many  of  these  crimes  which  if  the  white  man  did  not  commit,  he 
would  be  regarded  as  a  scoundrel  and  a  coward.  In  the  state  of 
Maryland,  there  is  a  law  to  this  effect :  that  if  a  slave  shall  strike 
his  master,  he  may  be  hanged,  his  head  severed  from  his  body,  his 
body  quartered,  and  his  head  and  quarters  setup  in  the  most  prom- 
inent places  in  the  neighborhood.  If  a  colored  woman,  in  the  de- 
fense of  her  own  virtue,  in  defense  of  her  own  person,  should  shield 


KECEPTION    SPEECH.  415 

herself  from  the  brutal  attacks  of  her  tyrannical  master,  or  make \ 
the  slightest  resistance,  she  may  be  killed  on  the  spot.  No  law  ; 
whatever  will  bring  the  guilty  man  to  justice  for  the  crime, 
'  But  you  will  ask  me,  can  these  things  be  possible  in  a  land  pro- 
fessing Christianity  ?  Yes,  they  are  so ;  and  this  is  not  the  worst. 
No  ;  a  darker  feature  is  yet  to  be  presented  than  the  mere  existence 
of  these  facts.  I  have  to  inform  you  that  the  religion  of  the  south- 
ern states,  at  this  time,  is  the  great  supporter,  the  great  sanction er 
of  the  bloody  atrocities  to  which  I  have  referred.  While  America 
is  printing  tracts  and  bibles ;  sending  missionaries  abroad  to  con- 
vert the  heathen ;  expending  her  money  in  various  ways  for  the 
promotion  of  the  gospel  in  foreign  lands  —  the  slave  not  only  lies 
forgotten,  uncared  for,  but  is  trampled  under  foot  by  the  very 
churches  of  the  land.  What  have  we  in  America  ?  Whj^,  we  have 
slavery  made  part  of  the  religion  of  the  land.  Yes,  the  pulpit  there 
stands  up  as  the  great  defender  of  this  cursed  institution,  as  it  is 
called.  Ministers  of  religion  come  forward  and  torture  the  hal- 
lowed pages  of  inspired  wisdom  to  sanction  the  bloody  deed.  They 
stand  forth  as  the  foremost,  the  strongest  defenders  of  this  "institu- 
tion." As  a  proof  of  this,  I  need  not  do  more  than  state  the  general 
fact,  that  slavery  has  existed  under  the  droppings  of  the  sanctuary 
of  the  south  for  the  last  two  hundred  years,  and  there  has  not  been 
any  war  between  the  religion  and  the  slavery  of  the  south.  Whips, 
chains,  gags,  and  thumb-screws  have  all  lain  under  the  droppings 
of  the  sanctuary,  and  instead  of  rusting  from  off  the  limbs  of  the 
bondman,  those  droppings  have  served  to  preserve  them  in  all  their 
strength.  Instead  of  preaching  the  gospel  against  this  tyranny,  re- 
buke, and  wrong,  ministers  of  religion  have  sought,  by  all  and  every 
means,  to  throw  in  the  back-ground  whatever  in  the  bible  coi;ld  be 
construed  into  opposition  to  slavery,  and  to  bring  forward  that 
which  they  could  torture  into  its  support.  This  I  conceive  to  be 
the  dai^kest  feature  of  slavery,  and  the  most  difficult  to  attack,  be- 
cause it  is  identified  with  religion,  and  exposes  those  who  denounce 
it  to  the  charge  of  infidelity.  Yes,  those  with  whom  I  have  been 
laboring,  namely,  the  old  organization  anti-slavery  society  of  Amer- 
ica, have  been  again  and  again  stigmatized  as  infidels,  and  for  what 
reason  ?  Why,  solely  in  consequence  of  the  faithfulness  of  their  at- 
tacks upon  the  slaveholding  religion  of  the  southern  states,  and  the 
northern  religion  that  sympathizes  Avith  it.  I  have  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  speak  on  this  matter  without  persons  coming  forward  and 


416  APPENDIX. 

saying,  "Douglass,  are  you  not  afraid  of  injuring  the  cause  of 
Christ?  You  do  not  desire  to  do  so,  we  know;  but  are  you  not  un- 
dermining religion?"  This  has  been  said  to  me  again  and  again, 
even  since  I  came  to  this  country,  but  I  cannot  be  induced  to  leave 
off  these  exposures.  I  love  the  religion  of  our  blessed  Savior.  I 
love  that  religion  that  comes  from  above,  in  the  "  wisdom  of  God. 
which  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be  entreated, 
full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality  and  without  hy- 
pocrisy. I  love  that  religion  that  sends  its  votaries  to  bind  up  the 
wounds  of  him  that  has  fallen  among  thieves.  I  love  that  religion 
that  makes  it  the  duty  of  its  disciples  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  the 
widow  in  their  affliction.  I  love  that  religion  that  is  based  upon 
the  glorious  principle,  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man  ;  which  makes 
its  followers  do  unto  others  as  they  themselves  would  be  done  by. 
If  you  demand  liberty  to  yourself,  it  says,  grant  it  to  your  neigh- 
boi's.  If  you  claim  a  right  to  think  for  yourself,  it  says,  allow  yv>ur 
neighbors  the  same  right.  If  you  claim  to  act  for  yourself,  it  says, 
allow  your  neighbors  the  same  right.  It  is  because  I  love  this  re- 
ligion that  I  hate  the  slaveholding,  the  woman-whipping,  the  mind- 
darkening,  the  soul-destroying  religion  that  exists  in  the  southern 
states  of  America.  It  is  because  I  regard  the  one  as  good,  and  pure, 
and  holy,  that  I  cannot  but  regard  the  other  as  bad,  corrupt,  and 
wicked.  Loving  the  one  I  must  hate  the  other;  holding  to  the  one 
I  must  reject  the  other. 

I  may  be  asked,  why  I  am  so  anxious  to  bring  this  subject  before 
the  British  public — why  I  do  not  confine  my  efforts  to  the  United 
States?  My  answer  is,  first,  that  slavery  is  the  common  enemy  of 
mankind,  and  all  mankind  should  be  made  acquainted  with  its 
abominable  character.  My  next  answer  is,  that  the  slave  is  a  man, 
and,  as  such,  is  entitled  to  your  sj^mpathy  as  a  brother.  All  the 
feelings,  all  the  susceptibilities,  all  the  capacities,  which  you  have, 
he  has.  He  is  a  part  of  the  human  family.  He  has  been  the  prey 
—  the  common  prey — of  Christendom  for  the  last  three  hundred 
3^ears,  and  it  is  but  right,  it  is  but  just,  it  is  but  proper,  that  his 
wrongs  should  be  known  throughout  the  world.  I  have  another 
reason  for  bringing  this  matter  before  the  British  public,  and  it  is 
this:  slavery  is  a  system  of  wrong,  so  blinding  to  all  around,  so 
hardening  to  the  heart,  so  corrupting  to  the  morals,  so  deleterious 
to  religion,  so  sapping  to  all  the  principles  of  justice  in  its  immedi- 
ate vicinity,  that  the  community  surrounding  it  lack    the   moral 


RECEPTION   SPEECH.  417 

stamina  necessary  to  its  removal.  It  is  a  system  of  such  gigantic  evil 
so  strong,  so  overwhelming  in  its  power,  that  no  one  nation  is  equal 
to  its  removal.  It  requires  the  humanit}^  of  Christianity,  the  morality 
of  the  world  to  remove  it.  Hence,  I  call  upon  the  people  of  Britain  to 
look  at  this  matter,  and  to  exert  tlie  influence  I  am  about  to  show 
they  possess,  for  the  removal  of  slavery  from  America.  I  can  appeal 
to  them,  as  strongly  by  their  regard  for  the  slaveholder  as  for  the 
slave,  to  labor  in  this  cause,  t  am  here,  because  you  have  an  in- 
fluence on  America  that  no  other  nation  can  have.  You  have  been 
drawn  together  by  the  power  of  steam  to  a  marvelous  extent;  the 
distance  between  London  and  Boston  is  now  reduced  to  some  twelve 
or  fourteen  days,  so  that  the  denunciations  against  slavery,  uttered 
in  London  this  week,  may  be  heard  in  a  fortnight  in  the  streets  of 
Boston,  and  reverberating  amidst  the  hills  of  Massachusetts.  There 
is  nothing  said  here  against  slavery  that  will  not  be  recorded  in 
the  United  States.  I  am  here,  also,  because  the  slaveholders  do  not 
want  me  to  be  here;  they  would  rather  that  I  were  not  here.  I 
have  adopted  a  maxim  laid  down  by  ISTapoleon,  never  to  occupy 
ground  which  the  enemy  would  like  me  to  occupy.  The  slave- 
holders would  much  rather  have  me,  if  I  will  denounce  slavery,  de- 
nounce it  in  the  northern  states,  where  their  friends  and  supporters 
are,  who  will  stand  by  and  mob  me  for  denouncing  it.  They  feel 
something  as  the  man  felt,  when  he  uttered  his  prayer,  in  which  he 
made  out  a  most  horrible  case  for  himself,  and  one  of  his  neiarhbors 
touched  him  and  said,  "My  friend,  I  always  had  the  opinion  of  you 
that  you  have  now  expressed  for  yourself  —  that  you  are  a  very 
great  sinner."  Coming  from  himself,  it  was  all  very  well,  but  com- 
ing from  a  stranger  it  was  rather  cutting.  The  slaveholders  felt 
that  when  slavery  was  denounced  among  themselves,  it  was  not  so 
bad;  but  let  one  of  the  slaves  get  loose,  let  him  summon  the  people 
of  Britain,  and  make  known  to  them  the  conduct  of  the  slavehold- 
ers toward  their  slaves,  and  it  cuts  thenr  to  the  quick,  and  pro- 
duces a  sensation  such  as  would  be  produced  by  nothing  else.  The 
power  I  exert  now  is  something  like  the  power  that  is  exerted  by 
the  man  at  the  end  of  the  lever;  my  influence  now  is  just  in  pro- 
portion to  the  distance  that  I  am  from  the  United  States.  My  ex- 
posure of  slavery  abroad  will  tell  more  upon  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  slaveholders,  than  if  I  was  attacking  them  in  America  ^ 
for  almost  every  paper  that  I  now  receive  from  the  United  States, 
comes  teeming  with  statements  about  this  fugitive  negro,  calling 
•>7  • 


418  APPENDIX. 

him  a  "  glib-tongued  scoundrel,"  and  saying  that  he  is  running  out 
against  the  institutions  and  people  of  America.     I  deny  the  charge 
that  I  am  saying  a  word  against  the  institutions  of  America,  or  the 
people,  as  such.     What  I  have  to  say  is  against  slavery  and  slave- 
holders.    I  feel  at  liberty  to  speak  on  this  subject.     I  have  on  my 
back  the  marks  of  the  lash ;  I  have  four  sisters  and  one  brother  now 
under  the  galling  chain.     I  feel  it  my  duty  to  cry  aloud  and  spare 
not.     I  am  not  averse  to  having  the  good  opinion  of  my  fellow- 
creatures.     I  am  not  averse  to  being  kindly  regarded  by  all  men; 
but  I  am  bound,  even  at  the  hazard  of  making  a  large  class  of  reli- 
gionists in  this  country  hate  me,  oppose  me,  and  malign  me  as  they 
have  done — I  am  bound  by  the  prayers,  and  tears,  and  entreaties  of 
three  millions  of  kneeling  bondsmen,  to  have  no  compromise  with 
men  who  are  in  any  shape  or  form  connected  with  the  slaveholders 
of  America.     I  expose  slavery  in  this  country,  because  to  expose  it 
is  to  kill  it.     Slavery  is  one  of  those  monsters  of  darkness  to  whom 
the  light  of  truth  is  death.     Expose  slavery,  and  it  dies.     Light  is 
to  slavery  what  the  heat  of  the  sun  is  to  the  root  of  a  tree  ;  it  must 
die  under  it.     All  the  slaveholder  asks  of  me  is  silence.     He  does 
not  ask  me  to  go  abroad  and  preach  in  favor  of  slavery ;  he  does  not 
ask  any  one  to  do  that.     He  would  not  say  that  slavery  is  a  good 
thing,  but  the  best  under  the  circumstances.     The  slaveholders  want 
total    darkness   on   the    subject.      They  want   the  hatchway  shut 
down,  that  the  monster  may  crawl  in  his  den  of  dai-kness,  crushing 
human  hopes  and  happiness,  destroying  the  bondman  at  will,  and 
having  no  one  to  reprove  or  rebuke  him.     Slavery  shrinks  from  the 
light;  it  hateth  the  light,  neither  cometh  to  the  light,  lest  its  deeds 
should  be  reproved.     To  tear  off  the  mask  from  this  abominable 
system,  to  expose  it  to  the  light  of  heaven,  aye,  to  the  heat  of  the 
sun,  that  it  may  burn  and  wither  it  out  of  existence,  is  my  object 
in  coming  to  this  country.     I  want  the  slaveholder  surrounded,  as 
by  a  wall  of  anti-slavery  fire,  so  that  he  may  see  the  condemnation 
of  himself  and  his  system  glaring  down  in  letters  of  light.     I  want 
him  to  feel  that  he  has  no  sympathy  in  England,  Scotland,  or  Ire- 
land; that  he  has  none  in  Canada,  none  in  Mexico,  none  among  the 
poor  wild  Indians ;  that  the  voice  of  the  civilized,  aye,  and  savage 
world  is  against  him.     I  would  have  condemnation  blaze  down  upon 
him  in  every  direction,  till,  stunned  and  overwhelmed  with  shame 
and  confusion,  he  is  compelled  to  let  go  the  grasp  he  holds  upon 
the  persons  of  his  victims,  and  restore  them  to  their  long-lost  rights. 


RECEPTION  SPEECH.  419 

DR.  CAMPBELL'S  REPLY. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  Campbell's  brilliant  reply  we  extract  the 
following : 

Frederick  Douglass,  the  "beast  of  burden,"  the  portion  of  "goods 
and  chattels,"  the  representative  of  three  millions  of  men,  has  been 
aised  up!  Shall  I  say  th.e  man?  If  there  is  a  man  on  earth,  he  is 
a  man.  ^Ij  blood  boiled  within  me  wlien  I  heard  his  address  to- 
night, and  thought  that  he  had  left  behind  him  three  millions  of 
such  men. 

We  must  see  more  of  this  man ;  we  must  have  more  of  this  man. 
One  would  have  taken  a  voyage  round  the  globe  some  forty  years 
back  —  especially  since  the  introduction  of  steam  —  to  have  heard 
such  an  exposure  of  slavery  from  the  lips  of  a  slave.  It  will  be  an 
era  in  the  individual  history  of  the  present  assembly.  Our  chil- 
dren— our  boys  and  girls — I  have  to-night  seen  the  delightful  sym- 
pathy of  their  hearts  evinced  by  their  heaving  breasts,  while  their 
eyes  sparkled  with  wonder  and  admiration,  that  this  black  man — 
this  slave — had  so  much  logic,  so  much  wit,  so  much  fancy,  so  much 
eloquence.  He  was  something  more  than  a  man,  according  to  their 
little  notions.  Then,  I  say,  we  must  hear  him  again.  We  have  got 
a  purpose  to  accomplish.  He  has  appealed  to  the  pulpit  of  England. 
The  English  pulpit  is  with  him.  He  has  appealed  to  the  press  of 
England  ;  the  press  of  England  is  conducted  by  English  hearts,  and 
that  press  will  do  him  justice.  About  ten  days  hence,  and  his  sec- 
ond master,  who  may  well  prize  "such  a  piece  of  goods,"  will  have 
the  pleasure  of  reading  his  burning  words,  and  his  first  master  will 
bless  himself  that  he  has  got  quit  of  him.  We  have  to  create  pub- 
lic opinion,  or  rather,  not  to  create  it,  for  it  is  created  already  ;  but 
we  have  to  foster  it;  and  when  to-night  I  heard  those  magnificent 
words  —  the  words  of  Curran,  by  which  my  heart,  from  boyhood, 
has  ofttimes  been  deeply  moved — I  rejoice  to  think  that  they  em- 
body an  instinct  of  an  Englishman's  nature.  I  heard,  with  inex- 
pressible delight,  how  they  told  on  this  mighty  mass  of  the  citizens 
of  the  metropolis. 

Britain  has  now  no  slaves  ;  we  can  therefore  talk  to  the  other 
nations  now,  as  we  could  not  have  talked  a  dozen  years  ago.  I  want 
the  whole  of  the  London  ministry  to  meet  Douglass.  For  as  his  ap- 
peal is  to  England,  and  throughout  England,  I  should  rejoice  in  the 


420  APPENDIX. 

idea  of  cTiurcIimen  and  dissenters  merging  all  sectional  distinctions 
in  this  cause.  Let  us  have  a  public  breakfast.  Let  the  ministers 
meet  him ;  let  them  hear  him ;  let  them  grasp  his  hand ;  and  let 
him  enlist  their  sympathies  on  behalf  of  the  slave.  Let  him  in- 
spire them  with  abhorrence  of  the  man-stealer — the  slaveholder. 
Ko  slaveholding  American  shall  ever  my  ci'oss  my  door.  No  slave- 
holding  or  slavery-supporting  minister  shall  ever  pollute  my  pulpit. 
While  I  have  a  tongue  to  speak,  or  a  hand  to  write,  1  will,  to  the 
utmost  of  my  power,  oppose  these  slaveholding  men.  "We  must 
have  Douglass  amongst  us  to  aid  in  fostering  public  opinion. 

The  great  coaflict  with  slavery  must  now  take  place  in  America; 
and  while  they  are  adding  other  slave  states  to  the  Union,  our 
business  is  to  step  forward  and  help  the  abolitionists  there.  It  is  a 
pleasing  circumstance  that  such  a  body  of  men  has  risen  in  Amer- 
ica, and  whilst  we  hurl  our  thunders  against  her  slavers,  let  us 
make  a  distinction  between  those  who  advocate  slavery  and  those 
who  oppose  it.  George  Thompson  has  been  there.  This  man, 
Frederick  Douglass,  has  been  there,  and  has  been  compelled  to  flee. 
I  wish,  when  he  first  set  foot  on  our  shores,  he  had  made  a  solemn 
vow,  and  said,  "Now  that  I  am  free,  and  in  the  sanctuary  of  free- 
dom, I  will  never  return  till  I  have  seen  the  emancipation  of  my 
coimtry  completed."  He  wants  to  surround  these  men,  the  slave- 
holders, as  by  a  wall  of  fire;  and  he  himself  may  do  much  toward 
kindling  it.  Let  him  travel  over  the  island — east,  west,  north,  and 
south — everywhere  diffusing  knowledge  and  awakening  principle, 
till  the  whole  nation  become  a  body  of  petitioners  to  America.  He 
will,  he  must,  do  it.  He  must  for  a  season  make  England  his  home. 
He  must  send  for  his  wife.  He  must  send  for  his  children.  I  want  to 
see  the  sons  and  daughters  of  sxich  a  sire.  TVe,  too,  must  do  something 
for  him  and  them  worthj^-  of  the  English  name.  I  do  not  like  the 
idea  of  a  man  of  such  mental  dimensions,  such  moral  courao-e,  and 
all  but  incomparable  talent,  having  his  own  small  wants,  and  the 
wants  of  a  distant  wife  and  children,  supplied  by  the  poor  profits  of 
his  publication,  the  sketch  of  his  life.  Let  the  pamphlet  be  bought 
by  tens  of  thousands.  But  we  will  do  something  more  for  him, 
shall  we  not  ? 

It  only  remains  that  we  pass  a  resolution  of  thanks  to  Frederick 
Douglass,  the  slave  that  was,  the  man  that  is !     He  that  was  cov- 
ered with  chains,  and  that  is  now  being  covered   with  glory,  and 
.  whom  we  will  send  back  a  gentleman. 


LETTER  TO  HIS  OLD  MASTER.* 

To  My   Old  Master,  Thomas  Auld. 

Sir — The  long  and  intimate,  tliougli  by  no  means  friendly,  rela- 
tion which  unhappily  subsisted  between  you  and  mj'self,  leads  me 
to  hope  that  you  will  easily  account  for  the  great  liberty  which  I 
now  take  in  addressing  you  in  this  open  and  public  manner.  The 
same  fact  may  possibly  remove  any  disagreeable  surprise  which 
you  may  experience  on  again  finding  .your  name  coupled  with 
mine,  in  any  other  way  than  in  an  advertisement,  accurately  de- 
scribing my  person,  and  offering  a  large  sum  for  my  arrest.  In 
thus  dragging  you  again  before  the  public,  I  am  aware  that  I  shall 
subject  myself  to  no  inconsiderable  amount  of  censure.  I  shall 
probably  be  cliarged  with  an  unwarrantable,  if  not  a  wanton  and 
reckless  disregard  of  the  rights  and  propi'ieties  of  private  life.  There 
are  those  north  as  well  as  south  who  entertain  a  much  higher  respect 
for  rights  whicli  are  merely  conventional,  than  they  do  for  rights 
which  are  personal  and  essential.  Not  a  few  there  are  in  our  coun- 
try, who,  while  they  have  no  scruples  against  robbing  the  laborer 
of  the  hard  earned  results  of  his  patient  industry,  will  be  shocked 
by  the  extremely  indelicate  manner  of  bringing  your  name  before 
the  public.  Believing  this  to  be  the  case,  and  wishing  to  meet 
every  reasonable  or  plausible  objection  to  my  conduct,  I  will  frankly 
state  the  ground  upon  which  I  justify  myself  in  this  instance, 
as  well  as  on  former  occasions  when  I  have  though-t  proper  to  men- 
tion your  name  in  public.  All  will  agree  that  a  man  guilty  of  theft, 
robbery,  or  murder,  has  forfeited  the  right  to  concealment  and  pri- 
vate life;  that  the  community  have  a  right  to  siibject  such  persons 
to  the  most  complete  exposure.     However  much  they  may  desire 

*  It  is  not  often  that  chattels  address  their  owners.  The  following  letter  is  unique ; 
and  probably  the  only  specimea  of  the  kind  extant.  It  was  written  while  In 
England. 


422  APPENDIX. 

retirement,  ana  aim  to  conceal  themselves  and  their  movements  • 
from  the  popular  gaze,  the  public  have  a  right  to  ferret  them  out, 
and  bring  their  conduct  before  the  proper  tribunals  of  the  country 
for  investigation.  Sir,  you  will  undoubtedly  make  the  proper  ap- 
plication of  these  generally  admitted  principles,  and  will  easily  see 
the  light  in  which  you  are  regarded  by  me ;  I  will  not  therefore 
manifest  ill  temper,  by  calling  you  hard  names.  I  know  you  to  be 
a  man  of  some  intelligence,  and  can  readily  determine  the  precise 
estimate  which  I  entertain  of  your  character.  I  may  therefore  in- 
dulge in  language  which  may  seem  to  others  indirect  and  ambigu- 
ous, and  yet  be  quite  well  understood  by  yourself 

I  have  selected  this  day  on  which  to  address  you,  because  it  is 
the  anniversary  of  ray  emancipation  ;  and  knowing  no  better  way, 
I  am  led  to  this  as  the  best  mode  of  celebrating  that  truly  impor- 
tant event.  Just  ten  years  ago  this  beautiful  September  morning, 
yon  bright  sun  beheld  me  a  slave — a  poor  degraded  chattel — trem- 
bling at  the  sound  of  your  voice,  laiuenting  that  I  was  a  man,  and 
wishing  myself  a  brute.  The  hopes  which  I  had  treasiired  up  for 
weeks  of  a  safe  and  successful  escape  from  your  grasp,  were  power- 
fully confronted  at  this  last  hour  by  dark  clouds  of  doubt  and  fear, 
making  my  person  shake  and  my  bosom  to  heave  with  the  heavy 
contest  between  hope  and  fear.  I  have  no  words  to  describe  to 
you  the  deep  agony  of  soul  which  I  experienced  on  that  never-to- 
be-forgotten  morning — for  I  left  by  daylight.  I  was  making  a  leap 
in  the  dark.  The  probabilities,  so  far  as  I  could  by  reason  deter- 
mine them,  were  stoutly  against  the  undertaking.  The  prelimina- 
ries and  precautions  I  had  adopted  previously,  all  worked  badly. 
I  was  like  one  going  to  war  without  weapons — ten  chances  of  de- 
feat to  one  of  victor3\  One  in  whom  I  had  confided,  and  one  who 
had  promised  me  assistance,  appalled  by  fear  at  the  trial  hour,  de- 
serted me,  thus  leaving  the  responsibility  of  success  or  failure  solely 
with  myself  You,  sir,  can  never  know  my  feelings.  As  I  look 
back  to  them,  I  can  scarcely  realize  that  I  have  passed  through  a 
scene  so  trying.  Trying,  however,  as  they  were,  and  gloomy  as 
was  the  prospect,  thanks  be  to  the  Most  High,  who  is  ever  the  God 
of  the  oppressed,  at  the  moment  which  was  to  determine  ray  whole 
earthly  career.  His  grace  was  sufficient;  my  mind  was  made  up.  I 
embraced  the  golden  opportunity,  took  the  morning  tide  at  the 
flood,  and  a  free  man,  young,  active,  and  strong,  is  the  result. 

I  have  often  thought  I  should  like  to  expJain  to  you  the  grounds 


LETTER  TO  HIS  OLD  MASTER.  423 

upon  which  I  have  justified  myself  in  running  away  from  you.  I 
am  ahnost  ashamed  to  do  so  now,  for  by  this  time  you  may  have 
discovered  them  yourself.  I  will,  however,  glance  at  them.  When 
yet  but  a  child  about  six  years  old,  I  imbibed  the  determination  to 
run  away.  The  very  first  mental  effort  that  I  now  remember  on 
my  part,  was  an  attempt  to  solve  the  mystery — why  am  I  a  slave  ?  and 
with  this  question  my  youthful  mind  was  troubled  for  many  days, 
pressing  upon  me  more  heavily  at  times  than  others.  When  I  saw 
the  slave-driver  whip  a  slave-woman,  cut  the  blood  out  of  her  neck, 
and  heard  her  piteous  cries,  I  went  away  into  the  corner  of  the 
fence,  wept  and  pondered  over  the  mystery.  I  had,  through  some 
medium,  I  know  not  what,  got  some  idea  of  God,  the  Creator  of  all 
mankind,  the  black  and  the  white,  and  that  he  had  made  the  blacks 
to  serve  the  whites  as  slaves.  How  he  could  do  this  and  be  goodf  I 
could  not  tell.  I  was .  not  satisfied  with  this  theory,  which  made 
God  responsible  for  slavery,  for  it  pained  me  greatly,  and  I  have 
wept  over  it  long  and  often.  At  one  time,  your  first  wife,  Mrs.  Lu- 
eretia,  heard  me  sighing  and  saw  me  shedding  tears,  and  asked  of 
me  the  matter,  but  I  was  afraid  to  tell  her.  I  was  puzzled  with 
this  question,  till  one  night  while  sitting  in  the  kitchen,  I  heard 
some  of  the  old  slaves  talking  of  their  parents  having  been  stolen 
from  Africa  by  white  men,  and  were  sold  here  as  slaves.  The  whole 
mystery  was  solved  at  once.  Very  soon  after  this,  my  Aunt  Jinny 
and  Uncle  Noah  ran  away,  and  the  great  noise  made  about  it  by 
your  father-in-law,  made  me  for  the  first  time  acquainted  with  the 
fact,  that  there  were  free  states  as  well  as  slave  states.  From  that 
time,  I  resolved  that  I  would  some  day  run  away.  The  morality  of 
the  act  I  dispose  of  as  follows  :  I  am  myself;  you  are  yourself;  we  are 
two  distinct  persons,  equal  persons.  What  you  are,  I  am.  You  are  a 
man,  and  so  am  I.  God  created  both,  and  made  us  separate  beings. 
I  am  not  by  nature  bond  to  you,  or  jow  to  me.  ISTature  does  not 
make  your  existence  depend  upon  me,  ermine  to  depend  upon  j'ours. 
I  cannot  walk  upon  your  legs,  or  you  upon  mine.  I  cannot  breathe 
for  you,  or  you  for  me ;  I  must  breathe  for  myself,  and  you  for 
yourself.  We  are  distinct  persons,  and  are  each  equally  provided 
with  faculties  necessary  to  our  individual  existence.  In  leaving  you, 
I  took  nothing  but  what  belonged  to  me,  and  in  no  wa}''  lessened 
yoTir  means  for  obtaining  an  honest  living.  Your  faculties  remained 
yours,  and  mine  became  useful  to  their  rightful  owner.  I  therefore 
Bee  no  wrong  in  any  part  of  the  transaction.     It  is  true,  I  went  off 


424  APPENDIX. 

secretly ;  but  that  was  more  your  fault  than  mine.  Had  I  let  you 
into  the  secret,  you  would  have  defeated  the  enterprise  entirely; 
but  for  this,  I  should  have  been  really  glad  to  have  made  you  ac- 
quainted with  my  intentions  to  leave. 

You  ma}"  perhaps  want  to  know  how  I  like  my  present  condition. 
I  am  free  to  say,  I  greatly  prefer  it  to  that  which  I  occupied  in 
Maryland.  I  am,  however,  by  no  means  prejudiced  against  the 
state  as  such.  Its  geography,  climate,  fertility,  and  products,  are 
such  as  to  make  it  a  very  desirable  abode  for  any  man  ;  and  but  for 
the  existence  of  slavery  there,  it  is  not  impossible  that  I  might  again 
take  \\p  my  abode  in  that  state.  It  is  not  that  I  love  Maryland  less, 
but  freedom  more.  You  will  be  suq^rised  to  learn  that  people  at 
the  north  labor  imder  the  strange  delusion  that  if  the  slaves  were 
emancipated  at  the  south,  they  would  flock  to  the  north.  So  far 
from  this  being  the  case,  in  that  event,  you  would  see  many  old 
and  familiar  faces  back  again  to  the  south.  The  fact  is,  there  are 
few  here  who  would  not  return  to  the  south  in  the  event  of  eman- 
cipation. "We  want  to  live  in  the  land  of  our  birth,  and  to  lay  our 
bones  by  the  side  of  our  fathers ;  and  nothing  short  of  an  intense 
love  of  personal  freedom  keeps  us  from  the  sauth.  For  the  sake  of 
this,  most  of  us  would  live  on  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  cold 
water. 

Since  I  left  you,  I  have  had  a  rich  experience.  I  have  occupied 
stations  which  I  never  dreamed  of  when  a  slave.  Three  out  of  the 
ten  years  since  I  left  you,  I  spent  as  a  common  laborer  on  the 
wharves  of  New  Bedford,  Massachusetts.  It  was  there  I  earned 
my  first  free  dollar.  It  was  mine.  I  could  spend  it  as  I  pleased. 
I  could  buy  hams  or  herring  with  it,  without  asking  any  odds  of 
anybody.  That  was  a  precious  dollar  to  me.  You  remember  when 
I  used  to  make  seven,  or  eight,  or  even  nine  dollars  a  week  in  Bal- 
timore, you  would  take  every  cent  of  it  from  me  every  Saturday 
night,  saying  that  I  belonged  to  you,  and  my  earnings  also.  I 
never  liked  this  conduct  on  jonr  part — to  say  the  best,  I  thought 
it  a  little  mean.  I  would  not  have  served  you  so.  But  let  that 
pass.  I  was  a  little  awkward  about  counting  money  in  ISTew  En- 
gland fashion  when  I  first  landed  in  New  Bedford.  I  came  near 
betraj^ing  myself  several  times.  I  caught  myself  saying  phip,  for 
fourpence;  and  at  one  time  a  man  actually  charged  me  with  being 
a  runaway,  whereupon  I  was  silly  enough  to  become  one  by  run- 
ning away  from  him,  for  I  was  greatly  afraid  he  might  adopt  meas- 


LE'lTER  TO  HIS  OLD  MAS'IEE.  425 

ures  to  get  me  again  into  slavery,  a  condition  I  then  dreaded  more 
i^lian  death. 

I  soon  learned,  however,  to  count  money,  as  "well  as  to  make  it, 
and  got  on  swimmingly.  I  mam-iedsoon  after  leaving  you  ;  in  fact, 
I  was  engaged  to  be  married  before  I  left  you;  and  instead  of  find- 
ing my  companion  a  burden,  she  was  truly  a  helpmate.  She  went 
to  live  at  service,  and  I  to  work  on  the  wharf,  and  though  we  toiled 
hard  the  first  winter,  we  never  lived  more  happily.  After  remaining 
in  Xew  Bedford  for  three  years,  I  met  with  William  Lloyd  Garri- 
son, a  person  of  whom  you  have  possibly  heard,  as  he  is  pretty  gen- 
erally known  among  slaveholders.  He  put  it  into  my  head  that  I 
might  make  myself  serviceable  to  the  cause  of  the  slave,  by  devo- 
ting a  portion  of  my  time  to  telling  my  own  sorrows,  and  those  of 
other  slaves,  which  had  come  under  my  observation.  This  was  the 
commencement  of  a  higher  state  of  existence  than  anj-  to  which  I 
had  ever  aspired.  I  was  thrown  into  society  the  most  pure,  en- 
lightened, and  benevolent,  that  the  country  affords.  Among  these 
I  have  never  forgotten  you,  but  have  invariably  made  you  the 
topic  of  conversation — thus  giving  you  all  the  notoriety  I  could  do. 
I  need  not  tell  you  that  the  opinion  formed  of  3-ou  in  these  circles 
is  far  from  being  favorable.  They  have  little  respect  for  your  hon- 
esty, and  less  for  your  religion. 

<.  But  I  was  going  on  to  relate  to  you  something  of  my  interesting 
experience.  I  had  not  long  enjoyed  the  excellent  society  to  which 
I  have  referred,  before  the  light  of  its  excellence  exerted  a  benefi- 
cial influence  on  my  mind  and  heart.  Much  of  my  early  dislike  of 
white  persons  was  removed,  and  their  manners,  habits,  and  cus- 
toms, so  entirely  unlike  what  I  had  been  used  to  in  the  kitchen- 
quarters  on  the  plantations  of  the  south,  fairly  charmed  me,  and 
gave  me  a  strong  disrelish  for  the  coarse  and  degrading  customs  of 
my  former  condition.  I  therefore  made  an  effort  so  to  improve  my 
mind  and  deportment,  as  to  be  somewhat  fitted  to  tlie  station  to 
which  I  seemed  almost  providentiall}^  called.  The  transition  from 
degradation  to  respectability  was  indeed  great,  and  to  get  from  one 
to  the  other  without  carrying  some  marks  of  one's  former  condition, 
is  truly  a  difficult  matter.  I  would  not  have  you  think  that  I  am 
now  entirely  clear  of  all  plantation  peculiarities,  but  my  friends 
here,  while  they  entertain  the  strongest  dislike  to  them,  regard  me 
with  that  charity  to  which  my  past  life  somewhat  entitles  me,  so 
that  my  condition  in  this  respect  is  exceedingly  pleasant.     So  far 


426  APPENDIX, 

as  my  domestic  affairs  are  concerned,  I  can  boast  of  as  comfortable 
a  dwelling  as  your  own.  I  have  an  industrious  and  neat  compan- 
ion, and  four  dear  children  —  the  oldest  a  girl  of  nine  5^ears,  and 
three  fine  boys,  the  oldest  eight,  the  next  six,  and  the  youngest  four 
years  old.  The  three  oldest  are  now  going  regulai'ly  to  school  — 
two  can  read  and  write,  and  the  other  can  spell,  with  tolerable  cor- 
rectness, words  of  two  syllables.  Dear  fellows!  they  are  all  in 
comfortable  beds,  and  are  sound  asleep,  perfectly  secure  under  my 
own  roof.  There  are  no  slaveholders  here  to  rend  my  heart  by 
snatching  them  from  my  arms,  or  blast  a  mother's  dearest  hopes  by 
tearing  them  from  her  bosom.  These  dear  children  are  ours  —  not 
to  work  up  into  rice,  sugar,  and  tobacco,  but  to  watch  over,  regard, 
and  protect,  and  to  rear  them  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of 
the  gospel — to  train  them  up  in  the  paths  of  wisdom  and  virtue, 
and,  as  far  as  we  can,  to  make  them  useful  to  the  world  and  to 
themselves.  Oh !  sir,  a  slaveholder  never  appears  to  me  so  com 
pletely  an  agent  of  hell,  as  when  I  think  of  and  look  upon  my  dear 
children.  It  is  then  that  my  feelings  rise  above  my  control.  I 
meant  to  have  said  more  with  respect  to  my  own  prosperity  and 
happiness,  but  thoughts  and  feelings  which  this  recital  has  quick- 
ened, unfits  me  to  proceed  further  in  that  direction.  The  grim  hor- 
roi's  of  slavery  rise  in  all  their  ghastly  terror  before  me ;  the  wails 
of  millions  pierce  my  heart  and  chill  my  blood.  I  remember  the 
chain,  the  gag,  the  bloody  whip ;  the  death-like  gloom  overshadow- 
ing the  broken  spirit  of  the  fettered  bondman  ;  the  appalling  lia- 
bility of  his  being  torn  away  from  wife  and  children,  and  sold 
like  a  beast  in  the  market.  Say  not  that  this  is  a  picture  of  fancy. 
You  well  know  that  I  wear  stripes  on  my  back,  inflicted  by  your 
direction;  and  that  you,  while  we  were  brothers  in  the  same  church, 
caused  this  right  hand,  with  which  I  am  now  penning  this  letter, 
to  be  closely  tied  to  my  left,  and  my  pei'son  dragged,  at  the  pistol's 
mouth,  fifteen  miles,  from  the  Bay  Side  to  Easton,  to  be  sold  like  a 
beast  in  the  market,  for  the  alleged  crime  of  intending  to  escape 
from  your  possession.  All  this,  and  more,  you  remember,  and  know 
to  be  perfectly  true,  not  only  of  yourself,  but  of  nearly  all  of  the 
slaveholders  around  you. 

At  this  moment,  you  are  probably  the  guilty  holder  of  at  least 
three  of  my  own  dear  sisters,  and  my  only  brother,  in  bondage. 
These  you  regard  as  your  property.  They  are  recorded  on  your 
ledger,  or  perhaps  have  been  sold  to  human  flesh-mongers,  with  a 


LETTER  TO  HIS  OLD  PIASTER.  427 

view  to  filling  your  own  ever-hungry  purse.     Sir,  I  desire  to  know 
how  and  where  these  dear  sisters  are.     Have  you  sold  them  ?  or  are 
they  still  in  your  possession  ?     What  has  become  of  them  ?  are  they 
living  or  dead?     And  my  dear  old  grandmother,  whom  you  turned 
out  like  an  old  horse  to  die  in  the  woods — is  she  still  alive?    Write 
and  let  me  know  all  about  them.     If  my  grandmother  be  still  alive, 
she  is  of  no  service  to  you,  for  by  this  time  she  must  be  nearly 
eightj^  years  old — too  old  to  be  cared  for  by  one  to  whom  she  has 
ceased  to  be  of  service  ;  send  her  to  me  at  Rochester,  or  bring  her 
to  Philadelphia,  and  it  shall  be  the  crowning  happiness  of  my  life 
to  take  care  of  her  in  her  old  age.     Oh !   she  was  to  me  a  mother 
and  a  father,  so  far  as  hard  toil  for  my  comfort  could  make  her 
such.     Send  me  my  grandmother!   that  I  may  watch  over  and  take 
care  of  her  in  her  old  age.     And  my  sisters — let  me  know  all  about 
them.     I  would  write  to  them,  and  learn  all  I  want  to  know  of  them, 
without  disturbing  you  in   any  way,  but  that,  through  your  un- 
righteous conduct,  they  have  been  entirely  deprived  of  the  power 
to  read  and  write.     You  have  kept  them  in  utter  ignorance,  and 
have  therefore  robbed  them  of  the  sweet  enjojmients  of  writing  or 
receiving:  letters  from  absent  friends  and  relatives.     Your  wicked- 
ness  and  cruelty,  committed  in  this  respect  on  your  fellow-creatures, 
are  greater  than  all  the  stripes  you  have  laid  upon  my  back  or  theirs. 
It  is  an  outrage  upon  the  soul,  a  war  upon  the  immortal  spirit,  and 
one  for  which  you  must  give  account  at  the  bar  of  our  common 
Father  and  Creator. 

The  responsibility  which  you  have  assumed  in  this  regard  is 
truly  awful,  and  how  you  could  stagger  under  it  these  many  years 
is  marvelous.  Your  mind  must  have  become  darkened,  your  heart 
hardened,  your  conscience  seared  and  petrified,  or  you  would  have 
long  since  thi'own  off  the  accursed  load,  and  sought  relief  at  the 
hands  of  a  sin-forgiving  God.  How,  let  me  ask,  would  you  look 
upon  me,  were  I,  some  dark  night,  in  company  with  a  band  of  hard- 
ened villains,  to  enter  the  precincts  of  your  elegant  dwelling,  and 
seize  the  person  of  your  own  lovely  daughter,  Amanda,  and  carrj' 
her  off  from  your  family,  friends,  and  all  the  loved  ones  of  her  youth 
— make  her  my  slave — compel  her  to  work,  and  I  take  her  wages — 
place  her  name  on  my  ledger  as  propsrty  —  disregard  her  personal 
yio-lits  —  fetter  the  powers  of  her  immortal  soul  by  denj'ing  her  the 
right  and  privilege  of  learning  to  read  and  write — feed  her  coarsely 
—clothe  her  scantily,  and  whip  her  on  the  naked  back  occasionally ; 


/ 


428  APPEKDi:^. 

more,  and  still  more  horrible,  leave  her  unprotected  —  a  degraded 
victim  to  the  brutal  lust  of  fiendish  overseers,  who  would  pollute, 
blight,  and  blast  her  fair  soul — rob  her  of  all  dignity — destroy  her 
virtue,  and  annihilate  in  her  person  all  the  graces  that  adorn  the 
character  of  virtuous  womanhood  ?  I  ask,  how  would  you  regard 
me,  if  such  were  my  conduct?  Oh  !  the  vocabulary  of  the  damned 
would  not  afford  a  word  sufficiently  infernal  to  express  your  idea 
of  my  God-provoking  wickedness.  Yet,  sir,  your  treatment  of  my 
beloved  sisters  is  in  all  essential  points  precisely  like  the  case  I 
have  now  supposed.  Damning  as  would  be  such  a  deed  on  my 
part,  it  would  be  no  more  so  than  that  which  you  have  committed 
against  me  and  my  sisters. 

I  will  now  bring  this  letter  to  a  close;  you  shall  hear  from  me 
again  unless  you  let  me  hear  from  you.  I  intend  to  make  use  of 
you  as  a  weapon  with  which  to  assail  the  system  of  slavery — as  a 
means  of  concentrating  public  attention  on  the  system,  and  deep- 
ening the  horror  of  trafficking  in  the  souls  and  bodies  of  men.  I 
shall  make  use  of  you  as  a  means  of  exposing  the  character  of  the 
American  church  and  clergy — -and  as  a  means  of  bringing  this  guilty 
nation,  with  yourself,  to  repentance.  In  doing  this,  I  entertain  no 
malice  toward  you  personally.  There  is  no  roof  under  which  you 
would  be  more  safe  than  mine,  and  there  is  nothing  in  my  house 
which  you  might  need  for  your  comfort,  which  I  would  not  readily 
grant.  Indeed,  I  should  esteem  it  a  privilege  to  set  you  an  exam- 
ple as  to  how  mankind  ought  to  treat  each  other. 

I  am  your  fellow-man,  but  not  jour  slave. 


THE  NATURE  OF  SLAVERY. 

EXTRACT  FROM  A  LECTURE  ON  SLAVERY,  AT  ROCHESTER,  DE- 
CEMBER  1,  1850. 

More  than  t-^enty  years  of  my  life  were  consumed  in  a  state  of 
slavery.  My  childhood  was  environed  by  the  baneful  peculiarities 
of  the  slave  system.  I  grew  up  to  manliood  in  the  presence  of  this 
hydra-headed  monster — not  as  a  master — not  as  an  idle  spectator — 
not  as  the  guest  of  the  slaveholder — but  as  a  slave,  eating  the  bread 
and  drinking:  the  cup  of  slavery  with  the  most  degraded  of  my 
brother-bondmen,  and  sharing  with  them  all  the  painful  conditions 
of  their  wretched  lot.  In  consideration  of  these  facts,  I  feel  that  I 
have  a  right  to  speak,  and  to  speak  strongly.  Yet,  my  friends,  I 
feel  bound  to  speak  truly. 

Goadins:  as  have  been  the  cruelties  to  which  I  have  been  sub- 
jected — bitter  as  have  been  the  trials  through  which  I  have  passed 
— exasperating  as  have  been,  and  still  are,  the  indignities  offered  to 
my  manhood — I  find  in  them  no  excuse  for  the  slightest  departure 
from  truth  in  dealing  with  any  branch  of  this  subject. 

First  of  all,  I  will  state,  as  well  as  I  can,  the  legal  and  social  rela- 
tion of  master  and  slave.  A  master  is  one — to  speak  in  the  vocab- 
ulary of  the  southei^n  states  —  who  claims  and  exercises  a  right  of 
property  in  the  person  of  a  fellow-man.  This  he  does  with  the 
force  of  the  law  and  the  sanction  of  southern  religion.'-  The  law 
gives  the  master  absolute  power  over  the  slave.  He  may  woi'k 
him,  flog  him,  hire  him  out,  sell  him,  and,  in  certain  contingencies, 
l-ill  him,  with  perfect  impunity.  The  slave  is  a  human  being,  di- 
vested of  all  rights — reduced  to  the  level  of  a  brute — a  mere  "chat- 
tel" in  the  eye  of  the  law — placed  beyond  the  circle  of  hiiman  broth- 
erhood—  cutoff  from  his  kind  —  his  name,  which  the  "recording 
angel"  may  have  enrolled  in  heaven,  among  the  blest,  is  impiously 
inserted  in  a  master'' f  ledger,  with  horses,  sheep,  and  swine.  In  law, 
the  slave  has  no  wife,  no  children,  no  country,  and  no  home.     He 


430  APPENDIX. 

•an  own  nothing,  possess  nothing,  acquire  nothing,  bnt  what  must 
belong  to  another.  To  eat  the  fruit  of  his  own  toil,  to  clothe  his 
person  with  the  work  of  his  own  hands,  is  considered  stealing.  He 
toils  that  another  may  reap  the  fruit;  he  is  industrious  that  an- 
other may  live  in  idleness;  he  eats  unbolted  meal  that  aaothermay 
eat  the  bread  of  fine  flour;  he  labors  in  chains  at  home,  under  a 
burning  sun  and  biting  lash,  that  another  may  ride  in  ease  and 
splendor  abroad;  he  lives  in  ignorance  that  another  may  be  educa- 
ted; he  is  abused  that  another  may  be  exalted;  he  rests  his  toil- 
worn  limbs  on  the  cold,  damp  ground  that  another  may  repose  on 
the  softest  pillow;  he  is  clad  in  coarse  and  tattered  raiment  that 
another  may  be  arrayed  in  purple  and  fine  linen;  he  is  sheltered 
only  by  the  wretched  hovel  that  a  master  may  dwell  in  a  magnifi- 
cent mansion  ;  and  to  this  condition  he  is  bound  down  as  by  an  arm 
of  iron. 

From  this  monstrous  relation  there  springs  an  unceasing  stream 
of  most  revolting  cruelties.  The  very  accom-panimenis  of  the  slave 
system  stamp  it  as  the  offspring  of  hell  itself.  To  ensure  good  be- 
havior, the  slaveholder  relies  on  the  whip  ;  to  induce  proper  hu- 
mility, he  relies  on  the  whip  ;  to  rebuke  what  he  is  pleased  to 
term  insolence,  he  relies  on  the  whip  ;  to  suppl}'  the  place  of  wages 
as  an  incentive  to  toil,  he  relies  on  the  whip;  to  bind  down  the 
spirit  of  the  slave,  to  imbrute  and  destroy  his  manhood,  he  relies 
.on  the  whip,  the  chain,  the  gag,  the  thumb-screw,  the  pillory,  the 
bowie-knife,  the  pistol,  and  the  blood-hound.  These  are  the  ne- 
cessary and  unvarying  accompaniments  of  the  system.  "Wherever 
slavery  is  found,  these  horrid  instruments  are  also  found.  Whetlier 
on  the  coast  of  Africa,  among  the  savage  tribes,  or  in  South  Caro- 
lina, among  the  refined  and  civilized,  slavery  is  the  same,  and  its 
accompaniments  one  and  the  same.  It  makes  no  difference  whether 
the  slaveholder  Avorships  the  God  of  the  clnistians,  or  is  a  follower 
of  Mahomet,  he  is  the  minister  of  the  same  cruelty,  and  the  author 
of  tlie  same  misery.  Slavery  is  always  slavery;  always  the  same 
foul,  haggard,  and  damning  scourge,  whether  found  in  the  eastern 
or  in  the  western  hemisphere. 

There  is  a  still  deeper  shade  to  be  given  to  this  picture.  The 
phj'sical  cruelties  are  indeed  sufficiently  harassing  and  revolting; 
but  they  are  as  a  few  grains  of  sand  on  the  sea  shore,  or  a  few 
drops  of  water  in  the  great  ocean,  compared  with  the  stupendous 
wrongs  which  it  inflicts  upon  the  mental,  moral,  and  religious  na- 


THE  NATUEE  OF  SLAVERY.  431 

ture  of  its  hapless  victims.  It  is  only  when  we  contemplate  the 
slave  as  a  moral  and  intellectual  being,  that  we  can  adequately 
comprehend  the  unparalleled  enormity  of  slavery,  and  the  intense 
criminality  of  the  slaveholder.  I  have  said  that  the  slave  was  a 
man.  "What  a  piece  of  work  is  man  !  How  noble  in  reason !  How 
infinite  in  faculties!  In  form  and  moving  how  express  and  admi- 
rable !  In  action  how  like  an  angel !  In  apprehension  how  like  a 
God!  the  beanty  of  the  world !   the  paragon  of  animals  !  " 

The  slave  is  a  man,  "the  image  of  God,"  but  "a  little  lower  than 
the  angels;"  possessing  a  soul,  eternal  and  indestructible;  capable 
of  endless  happiness,  or  immeasurable  woe ;  a  creature  of  hopes  and 
fears,  of  affections  and  passions,  of  joys  and  sorrows,  and  he  is  en- 
dowed with  those  mj^sterious  powers  by  which  man  soars  above 
the  things  of  time  and  sense,  and  grasps,  with  undying  tenacity, 
the  elevating  and  sublimely  glorious  idea  of  a  God.  It  is  siich  a 
being  that  is  smitten  and  blasted.  The  first  work  of  slavery  is  to 
mar  and  deface  those  characteristics  of  its  victims  which  distin- 
guish men  from  things,  and  persons  from  property.  Its  first  aim  is 
to  destroy  all  sense  of  high  moral  and  religious  responsibility'.  It 
reduces  man  to  a  mere  machine.  It  cuts  him  off  from  his  Maker, 
it  hides  from  him  the  laws  of  God,  and  leaves  him  to  grope  his  way 
from  time  to  eternity  in  the  dark,  under  the  arbitrary  and  despotic 
control  of  a  frail,  depraved,  and  sinful  fellow-man.  As  the  serpent- 
charmer  of  India  is  compelled  to  extract  the  deadly  teeth  of  his 
venomous  prey  before  he  is  able  to  handle  him  with  impunity,  so 
the  slaveholder  must  strike  down  the  conscience  of  the  slave  before 
he  can  obtain  the  entire  mastery  over  his  victim. 

It  is,  then,  the  first  business  of  the  enslaver  of  men  to  blunt,  deaden, 
and  destroy  the  central  principle  of  human  responsibility.  Con- 
science is,  to  the  individual  soul,  and  to  society,  what  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation is  to  the  universe.  It  holds  society  together ;  it  is  the  basis  of 
all  trust  and  confidence ;  it  is  the  pillar  of  all  moral  rectitude.  With- 
out it,  suspicion  would  take  the  place  of  trust ;  vice  would  be  more 
than  a  match  for  virtue;  men  would  prey  upon  each  other,  like  the 
wild  beasts  of  the  desert;  and  earth  would  become  a  hell. 

Nor  is  slavery  more  adverse  to  the  conscience  than  it  is  to  the 
mind.  This  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  in  every  state  of  the  Amer- 
ican Union,  where  slavery  exists,  except  the  state  of  Kentucky, 
there  are  laws  absolutely  prohibitory  of  education  among  the  slaves. 


4:32  APPENDIX. 

The  crime  of  teaching  a  slave  to  read  is  punishable  with  severe 
fines  and  imprisonment.,  and,  in  some  instances,  with  death  itself. 

K"or  are  the  laws  respecting  this  matter  a  dead  letter.  Cases 
may  occur  in  which  they  are  disregarded,  and  a  few  instances  may 
be  found  where  slaves  may  have  learned  to  read ;  but  such  are  iso- 
lated cases,  and  only  prove  the  rule.  The  great  mass  of  slavehold- 
ers look  upon  education  among  the  slaves  as  utterly  subversive  of 
the  slave  system,  I  well  remember  when  my  mistress  first  an- 
nounced to  my  master  that  she  had  discovered  that  I  could  read. 
His  face  colored  at  once  with  surprise  and  chagrin.  He  said  that 
"I  was  ruined,  and  my  value  as  a  slave  destroyed;  that  a  slave 
should  know  nothing  but  to  obey  his  master ;  that  to  give  a  negro 
an  inch  would  lead  him  to  take  an  ell ;  that  having  learned  how  to 
read,  I  would  soon  want  to  know  how  to  write ;  and  that  by-and- 
by  I  would  be  running  away."  I  think  my  audience  will  bear  wit- 
ness to  the  correctness  of  this  philosoiDhy,  and  to  the  literal  fulfill- 
ment of  this  prophecy. 

It  is  perfectly  well  understood  at  the  south,  that  to  educate  a  slave  is 
to  make  him  discontented  with  slavery,  and  to  invest  him  with  a 
power  which  shall  open  to  him  the  treasures  of  freedom ;  and  since 
the  object  of  the  slaveholder  is  to  maintain  complete  authority  over 
his  slave,  his  constant  vigilance  is  exercised  to  prevent  everything 
which  militates  against,  or  endangers,  the  stability  of  his  authority. 
Education  being  among  the  menacing  influences,  and,  perhaps,  the 
most  dangerous,  is,  therefore,  the  most  cautiously  guarded  against. 

It  is  true  that  we  do  not  often  hear  of  the  enforcement  of  the  law, 
punishing  as  a  crime  the  teaching  of  slaves  to  read,  but  this  is  not 
because  of  a  want  of  disposition  to  enforce  it.  The  true  reason  or 
explanation  of  the  matter  is  this  :  there  is  the  greatest  unanimity 
of  opinion  among  the  white  population  in  the  south  in  favor  of  the 
policy  of  keeping  the  slave  in  ignorance.  There  is,  perhaps,  an- 
other reason  why  the  law  against  education  is  so  seldom  violated. 
The  slave  is  too  poor  to  be  able  to  offer  a  temptation  sufficiently 
strong  to  induce  a  white  man  to  violate  it ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  in  a  community  where  the  moral  and  religious  sentiment 
is  in  favor  of  slavery,  many  martyrs  will  be  found  sacrificing  their 
liberty  and  lives  by  violating  those  prohibitory  enactments. 

As  a  general  rule,  then,  darkness  reigns  over  the  abodes  of  the 
enslaved,  and  "how  great  is  that  darkness!  " 

We  are  sometimes  told  of  the  contentment  of  the  slaves,  and  are 


THE  NATURE  OF  SLAVERY.  433 

entertained  with  vivid  pictures  of  their  happiness.  We  are  told 
that  they  often  dance  and  sing  ;  that  their  masters  frequently  give 
them  wherewith  to  make  mei'ry;  in  fine,  that  they  have  little  of 
which  to  complain.  I  admit  that  the  slave  does  sometimes  sing, 
dance,  and  appear  to  be  merry.  But  what  does  this  prove?  It 
only  proves  to  my  mind,  that  though  slavery  is  armed  with  a  thou- 
sand stings,  it  is  not  able  entirely  to  kill  the  elastic  spirit  of  the 
bondman.  That  spirit  will  rise  and  walk  abroad,  despite  of  whips 
and  chains,  and  extract  from  the  cup  of  nature  occasional  drops  of 
joy  and  gladness.  No  thanks  to  the  slaveholder,  nor  to  slavery, 
that  the  vivacious  captive  may  sometimes  dance  in  his  chains;  his 
very  mirth  in  such  circumstances  stands  before  God  as  an  accusing 
angel  agamst  his  enslaver. 

It  is  often  said,  by  the  opponents  of  the  anti-slavery  cause,  that 
the  condition  of  the  people  of  Ireland  is  more  deplorable  than  that 
of  the  American  slaves.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  underrate  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  Irish  people.  They  have  been  long  oppressed ;  and  the 
same  heart  that  prompts  me  to. plead  the  cause  of  the  American 
bondman,  makes  it  impossible  for  me  not  to  sympatliize  with  the 
oppressed  of  all  lands.  Yet  I  must  say  that  there  is  no  analogy  be- 
tween the  two  cases.  The  Irishman  is  poor,  but  he  is  not  a  slave. 
He  may  be  in  rags,  but  he  is  not  a  slave.  He  is  still  the  master  of 
his  own  body,  and  can  say  with  the  poet,  "The  hand  of  Douglass 
is  his  own."  "  The  world  is  all  before  him,  where  to  choose  ;  "  and 
poor  as  may  be  my  opinion  of  the  British  parliament,  I  cannot  be- 
lieve that  it  will  ever  sink  to  such  a  depth  of  infamy  as  to  pass  a 
law  for  the  riecapture  of  fugitive  Irishmen !  The  shame  and  scandal 
of  kidnapping  will  long  remain  wholly  monopolized  by  the  Ameri- 
can congress.  The  Irishman  has  not  only  the  liberty  to  emigrate 
from  his  countr^^  but  he  has  liberty  at  home.  He  can  write,  and 
speak,  and  cooperate  for  the  attainment  of  his  rights  and  the  re- 
dress of  his  wrongs. 

The  multitude  can  assemble  upon  all  the  green  hills  and  fertile 
plains  of  the  Emerald  Isle  ;  they  can  pour  out  their  grievances,  and 
proclaim  their  wants  without  molestation  ;  and  the  press;,  that 
"swift-winged  messenger,"  can  bear  the  tidings  of.  their  doings  to 
the  extreme  bounds  of  the  civilized  world.  They  have  their  "Con- 
ciliation Hall,"  on  the  banks  of  the  Liffey,  their  reform  clubs,  and 
their  newspapers ;  they  pass  resolutions,  send  forth  addresses,  and 
enjoy  the  right  of  petition.  But  how  is  it  with  the  American 
S     '  28 


434  APPENDIX. 

slave  ?  Where  may  he  assemble?  Where  is  his  Conciliation  Hall? 
Whore  are  his  newspapers  ?  Where  is  his  right  of  petition  ?  Where 
is  his  freedom  of  speech  ?  his  liberty  of  the  press?  and  his  right  of 
locomotion?  He  is  said  to  be  happy;  happy  men  can  speak.  But 
ask  the  slave  what  is  his  condition — what  his  state  of  mind — what 
he  thinks  of  enslavement?  and  you  had  as  well  address  your  inqui- 
ries to  the  silent  dead.  There  comes  no  voice  from  the  enslaved. 
We  are  left  to  gather  his  feelings  by  imagining  what  ours  would 
be,  were  our  souls  in  his  soul's  stead. 

If  there  were  no  other  fact  descriptive  of  slavery",  than  that  the 
slave  is  dumb,  this  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  mark  the  slave  sys- 
tem as  a  grand  aggregation  of  human  horrors. 

Most  who  are  present,  will  have  observed  that  leading  men  in 
this  country  have  been  putting  forth  their  skill  to  secure  quiet  to 
the  nation.  A  system  of  measures  to  promote  this  object  was 
adopted  a  few  months  ago  in  congress.  The  result  of  those  meas 
ures  is  known.  Instead  of  quiet,  they  have  produced  alarm ;  in- 
stead of  peace,  they  have  brought  us  war;  and  so  it  must  ever  be. 

While  this  nation  is  guilty  of  the  enslavement  of  three  millions  of 
innocent  men  and  women,  it  is  as  idle  to  think  of  having  a  sound 
and  lasting  peace,  as  it  is  to  think  there  is  no  God  to  take  cogni- 
zance of  the  affairs  of  men.  There  can  be  no  peace  to  the  wicked 
while  slavery  continues  in  the  land.  It  will  be  condemned ;  and 
while  it  is  condemned  there  will  be  agitation.  Nature  must  cease 
to  be  nature ;  men  must  become  monsters  ;  humanity  m.ust  be  trans- 
formed; Christianity  must  be  exterminated;  all  ideas  of  justice  and 
the  laws  of  eternal  goodness  must  be  utterly  blotted  out  from  the 
human  soul, — ere  a  S3'stem  so  foul  and  infernal  can  escape  condem 
nation,  or  this  guilty  republic  can  have  a  soiind,  enduring  peace. 


INHUMANITY  OF  SLAVERY. 

EXTRACT  FROM  A  LECTURE  ON  SLAVERY,  AT  ROCHESTER,  DE- 
CEMBER  8,  1850. 

The  relation  of  master  and  slave  has  been  called  patriarchal,  and 
only  second  in  benignity  and  tenderness  to  that  of  the  parent  and 
child.  This  representation  is  doubtless  believed  by  many  northern 
people  ;  and  this  may  account,  in  part,  for  the  lack  of  interest  which 
we  find  among  persons  whom  we  are  bound  to  believe  to  be  honest 
and  humane.  What,  then,  are  the  facts?  Here  I  will  not  quote 
m}'  own  experience  in  slavery ;  for  this  you  might  call  one-sided 
testimon5\  I  will  not  cite  the  declarations  of  abolitionists ;  for  these 
you  might  pronounce  exaggerations.  I  will  not  rely  upon  adver- 
tisements cut  from  newspapers ;  for  these  3"ou  might  call  isolated 
cases.  But  I  will  refer  you  to  the  laws  adopted  by  the  legislatures 
of  the  slave  states.  I  give  you  such  evidence,  because  it  cannot  be 
invalidated  nor  denied.  I  hold  in  my  hand  sundry  extracts  from 
the  slave  codes  of  our  country,  from  which  I  will  quote.     *     *     * 

Now,  if  the  foregoing  be  an  indication  of  kindness,  what  is  cruelty  ? 
If  this  be  parental  affection,  vjhat  is  bitter  malignity  ?  A  more  atro- 
cious and  blood-thirsty  string  of  laws  could  not  well  be  conceived 
of.  And  yet  I  am  bound  to  say  that  they  fall  short  of  indicating 
the  horrible  cruelties  constantly  practiced  in  the  slave  states. 

I  admit  that  there  are  individual  slaveholders  less  cruel  and  bar- 
barous than  is  allowed  by  law ;  but  these  form  the  exception.  The 
majority  of  slaveholders  find  it  necessary,  to  insure  obedience,  at 
times,  to  avail  themselves  of  the  utmost  extent  of  the  law,  and  many 
go  beyond  it.  If  kindness  were  the  rule,  we  should  not  see  adver- 
tisements filling  the  columns  of  almost  every  southern  newspaper, 
offering  large  rewards  for  fugitive  slaves,  and  describing  them  as 
being  branded  with  irons,  loaded  with  chains,  and  scarred  by  the 
whip.  One  of  the  most  telling  testimonies  against  the  pretended 
kindness  of  slaveholders,  is  the  fact  that  uncounted  numbers  of  fu- 
gitives are  now  inhabiting  the  Dismal  Swamp,  preferring  the  ua- 


4:36  APPENDIX. 

tamed  wilderness  to  tlieir  cultivated  homes — choosing  rather  to  en- 
counter hunger  and  thirst,  and  to  roam  with  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
forest,  running  the  hazard  of  being  hunted  and  shot  down,  than 
to  submit  to  the  authority  of  kind  masters. 

I  tell  you,  my  friends,  humanity  is  never  driven  to  such  an  un- 
natural course  of  life,  without  great  wrong.  The  slave  finds  more 
of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in  the  bosom  of  the  savage  Indian, 
than  in  the  heart  of  his  christian  master.  He  leaves  the  man  of  the 
bible,  and  takes  refuge  with  the  man  of  the  tomahaiok.  He  rushes 
from  the  praying  slaveholder  into  the  paws  of  the  bear.  He  quits 
the  homes  of  men  for  the  haunts  of  wolves.  He  prefers  to  encoun- 
ter a  life  of  trial,  however  bitter,  or  death,  however  terrible,  to 
dragging  out  his  existence  under  the  dominion  of  these  kind 
masters. 

The  apologists  for  slavery  often  speak  of  the  abuses  of  slavery; 
and  they  tell  us  that  they  are  as  much  opposed  to  those  abuses  as 
we  are  ;  and  that  they  would  go  as  far  to  correct  those  abuses  and 
to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  slave  as  anybody.  The  answer 
to  that  view  is,  that  slavery  is  itself  an  abuse  ;  that  it  lives  by  abuse  ; 
and  dies  by  the  absence  of  abuse.  Grant  that  slavery  is  right ; 
grant  that  the  relation  of  master  and  slave  may  innocently  exist ; 
and  there  is  not  a  single  outrage  which  was  ever  committed  against 
the  slave  but  what  finds  an  apology  in  the  very  necessity  of  the  case. 
As  was  said  by  a  slaveholder,  (the  Rev.  A.  G.  Few,)  to  the  Metho- 
dist conference,  "If  the  relation  be  right,  the  means  to  maintain  it 
are  also  right;"  for  without  those  means  slavery  could  not  exist. 
Remove  the  dreadful  scoui'ge — the  plaited  thong — the  galling  fetter 
—  the  accursed  chain  —  and  let  the  slaveholder  rely  solely  upon 
moral  and  religious  power,  by  which  to  secure  obedience  to  his  or- 
ders, and  how  long  do  you  suppose  a  slave  would  remain  on  his 
plantation  ?  The  case  only  needs  to  be  stated  ;  it  carries  its  own 
refutation  with  it. 

Absolute  and  arbitrary  power  can  never  be  maintained  by  one 
man  over  the  body  and  soul  of  another  man,  without  brutal  chas- 
tisment  and  enormous  cruelty. 

To  talk  of  kindness  entei'ing  into  a  relation  in  which  one  party  is 
robbed  of  wife,  of  children,  of  his  hard  earnings,  of  home,  of  friends, 
of  society,  of  knowledge,  and  of  all  that  makes  this  life  desirable,  is 
most  absurd,  wicked,  and  preposterous. 

I  have  shown  that  slavery  is  wicked— wicked,  in  that  it  violates 


INHtTMAl^ITY  OF  SLAVEEY.  43T 

the  great  law  of  liberty,  written  on  every  human  heart — wicked,  in 
that  it  violates  the  first  command  of  the  decalogue — wicked,  in  that  it 
fosters  the  most  disgusting  licentiousness  —  wicked,  in  that  it  mars 
and  defaces  the  image  of  God  by  cruel  and  barbarous  inflictions  — 
wicked,  in  that  it  contravenes  the  laws  of  eternal  justice,  and  tram- 
ples in  the  dust  all  the  humane  and  heavenly  precepts  of  the  New 
Testament. 

The  evils  resulting  from  this  huge  system  of  iniquity  are  not  con- 
fined to  the  states  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  Its  noxious  in- 
fluence can  easily  be  traced  throughout  our  northern  borders.  It 
comes  even  as  far  north  as  the  state  of  jSTew  York.  Traces  of  it  may 
be  seen  even  in  Rochester ;  and  travelers  have  told  me  it  casts  its 
gloomy  shadows  across  the  lake,  approaching  the  very,  shores  of 
Queen  Victoria's  dominions. 

The  presence  of  slavery  may  be  explained  by — as  it  is  the  explana- 
tion of — the  mobocratic  violence  which  lately  disgraced  New  York, 
and  which  still  more  recently  disgraced  the  city  of  Boston.  Tliese 
violent  demonstrations,  these  outrageous  invasions  of  human  rights, 
faintly  indicate  the  presence  and  power  of  slavery  here.  It  is  a  sig- 
nificant fact,  that  while  meetings  for  almost  any  purpose  under 
heaven  may  be  held  unmolested  in  the  city  of  Boston,  that  in  the 
same  city,  a  meeting  cannot  be  peaceably  held  for  the  purpose  of 
preaching  the  doctrine  of  the  American  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence, "  that  all  men  are  created  equal."  The  pestiferous  breath  of 
slavery  taints  the  whole  moral  atmosphere  of  the  north,  and  ener- 
vates the  moral  energies  of  the  whole  people. 

The  moment  a  foreigner  ventures  upon  our  soil,  and  utters  a 
natural  repugnance  to  oppression,  that  moment  he  is  made  to  feel 
that  there  is  little  S3^mpathy  in  this  land  for  him.  If  he  were  greeted 
with  smiles  before,  he  meets  with  frowns  now  ;  and  it  shall  go  well 
with  him  if  he  be  not  subjected  to  that  peculiarly  fitting  method  of 
showing  fealty  to  slavery,  the  assaults  of  a  mob. 

Now,  will  any  man  tell  me  that  such  a  state  of  things  is  natural, 
and  that  such  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  the  noi-th,  springs 
from  a  consciousness  of  rectitude?  No!  eveiy  fibre  of  the  human 
heart  unites  in  detestation  of  tyranny,  and  it  is  only  when  the  hu- 
man mind  has  become  familiarized  with  slavery,  is  accustomed  to 
its  injustice,  and  corrupted  by  its  selfishness,  that  it  fails  to  record 
its  abhorrence  of  slavery,  and  does  not  exult  in  the  triumphs  of 
liberty. 


438  APPENDIX. 

The  northern  people  have  been  long  connected  with  slavery;  they 
have  been  linked  to  a  decaying  corpse,  which  has  destroyed  the 
moral  health.  The  union  of  the  government;  the  union  of  the  north 
and  south,  in  the  political  parties;  the  union  in  the  religious  organ- 
izations of  the  land,  have  all  served  to  deaden  the  moral  sense  of  the 
northern  people,  and  to  impregnate  them  with  sentiments  and  ideas 
forever  in  conflict  with  what  as  a  nation  we  call  genius  of  American 
institutions.  Rightly  viewed,  this  is  an  alarming  fact,  and  ought  to 
rally  all  that  is  pure,  just,  and  holy  in  one  determined  effort  to  crush 
the  monster  of  corruption,  and  to  scatter  "  its  guilty  profits  "  to  the 
winds.  In  a  high  moral  sense,  as  well  as  in  a  national  sense,  the 
whole  American  people  are  responsible  for  slavery,  and  must  share, 
in  its  guilt  and  shame,  with  the  most  obdurate  men-stealers  of  the 
south. 

"While  slavery  exists,  and  the  union  of  these  states  endures,  every 
American  citizen  must  bear  the  chagrin  of  hearing  his  country 
branded  before  the  world  as  a  nation  of  liars  and  hypocrites ;  and 
behold  his  cherished  national  flag  pointed  at  with  the  utmost  scorn 
and  derision.  Even  now  an  American  abroad  is  pointed  out  in  the 
crowd,  as  coming  from  a  land  where  men  gain  their  fortunes  by 
"  the  blood  of  souls,"  from  a  land  of  slave  markets,  of  blood-hounds, 
and  slave-hunters  ;  and,  in  some  circles,  such  a  man  is  shunned  al- 
together, as  a  moral  pest.  Is  it  not  time,  then,  for  every  American 
to  awake,  and  inquire  into  his  duty  with  respect  to  this  subject? 

Wendell  Phillips — the  eloquent  New  England  orator  —  on  his  re- 
turn from  Europe,  in  1842,  said,  "As  I  stood  upon  the  shores  of  Ge- 
noa, and  saw  floating  on  the  placid  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  the 
beautiful  American  war  ship  Ohio,  with  her  masts  tapering  propor- 
tionately aloft,  and  an  eastern  sun  reflecting  her  noble  form  upon 
the  sparkling  waters,  attracting  the  gaze  of  the  multitude,  my  first 
impulse  was  of  pride,  to  think  myself  an  American ;  but  when  I 
thought  that  the  first  time  that  gallant  ship  would  gird  on  her  gor- 
geous apparel,  and  wake  from  beneath  her  sides  her  dormant  thun- 
ders, it  would  be  in  defense  of  the  African  slave  trade,  I  blushed  in 
utter  shame  for  my  country." 

Let  me  say  again,  slavery  is  alike  the  sin  and  the  shame  of  the  Amer- 
ican people ;  it  is  a  blot  upon  the  American  name,  and  the  only  na- 
tional reproach  which  need  make  an  American  hang  his  head  in 
shame,  in  the  presence  of  monarchical  governments. 

With  this  gigantic  evil  in  the  land,  we  are  constantly  told  to  look 


INHUMANITY  OF  SLAVERY.  439 

at  home;  if  we  say  ouglit  against  crowned  heads,  "we  are  pointed  to 
our  enslaved  millions  ;  if  we  talk  of  sending  missionaries  and  bibles 
abroad,  we  are  pointed  to  three  millions  now  lying  in  worse  than 
heathen  darkness;  if  we  express  a  word  of  sympathy  for  Kossuth 
and  his  Hungarian  fugitive  brethren,  we  are  pointed  to  that  horri- 
ble and  hell-black  enactment,  *'  the  fugitive  slave  bill." 

Slavery  blunts  the  edge  of  all  our  rebukes  of  tyranny  abroad  — 
the  criticisms  that  we  make  upon  other  nations,  only  call  forth  rid- 
icule, contempt,  and  scorn.  In  a  word,  we  are  made  a  reproach 
and  a  by-word  to  a  mocking  earth,  and  we  must  continue  to  be  so 
made,  so  long  as  slavery  continues  to  pollute  our  soiL 

We  have  heard  much  of  late  of  the  virtue  of  patriotism,  the  love 
of  co*untry,  &c.,  and  this  sentiment,  so  natural  and  so  strong,  has 
been  impiously  appealed  to,  by  all  the  powers  of  human  selfishness, 
to  cherish  the  viper  which  is  stinging  our  national  life  away.  In 
In  its  name,  we  have  been  called  upon  to  deepen  our  infamy  before 
the  world,  to  rivet  the  fetter  more  firmly  on  the  limbs  of  the  en- 
slaved, and  to  become  utterly  insensible  to  the  voice  of  human  woe 
that  is  wafted  to  us  on  every  southern  gale.  We  have  been  called 
upon,  in  its  name,  to  desecrate  our  whole  land  by  the  footprints  of 
slave-hunters,  and  even  to  engage  ourselves  in  the  horrible  business 
of  kidnapping. 

I,  too,  would  invoke  the  spirit  of  patriotism;  not  in  a  narrow  and 
restricted  sense,  but,  I  trust,  with  a  broad  and  manly  signification; 
not  to  cover  up  our  national  sins,  but  to  inspire  us  with  sincere  re- 
pentance ;  not  to  hide  our  shame  from  the  world's  gaze,  but  utterly 
to  abolish  the  cause  of  that  shame ;  not  to  explain  away  our  gross 
inconsistencies  as  a  nation,  but  to  remove  the  hateful,  jarring,  and 
incongruous  elements  from  the  land;  not  to  sustain  an  egregious 
wrong,  but  to  unite  all  our  energies  in  the  grand  effort  to  remedy 
that  wrong, 

I  would  invoke  the  spii'it  of  patriotism,  in  the  name  of  the  law  of 
the  living  God,  natural  and  revealed,  and  in  the  full  belief  that 
"  righteousness  exalteth  a  nation,  while  sin  is  a  reproach  to  any 
people-"  " He  that  walketh  righteouslj^,  and  speaketh  uprightly; 
he  that  despiseth  the  gain  of  oppressions,  that  shaketh  his  hands 
from  the  holding  of  bribes,  he  shall  dwell  on  high,  his  place  of  de- 
fense shall  be  the  munitions  of  rocks,  bread  shall  be  given  him,  his 
water  shall  be  sure." 

We  have  not  only  heard  much  lately  of  patriotism,  and  of  its  aid 


440  APPENDIX. 

being  invoked  on  the  side  of  slavery  and  injustice,  but  the  verj^  pros- 
perity of  this  people  has  been  called  in  to  deafen  them  to  the  voice 
of  duty,  and  to  lead  them  onward  in  the  pathway  of  sin.  Thus  has 
the  blessing  of  God  been  converted  into  a  curse.  In  the  spirit  of 
genuine  patriotism,  I  warn  the  American  people,  by  all  that  is  just 
and  honorable,  to  beware! 

I  warn  them  that,  strong,  proud,  and  prosperous  though  we  be, 
there  is  a  power  above  us  that  can  "bring  down  high  looks  ;  at  the 
breath  of  whose  mouth  our  wealth  may  take  wings ;  and  before 
whom  every  knee  shall  bow;,"  and  who  can  tell  how  soon  the 
avenging  angel  may  pass  over  our  land,  and  the  sable  bondmen 
now  in  chains,  may  become  the  instruments  of  our  nation's  chastise- 
ment! Without  appealing  to  any  higher  feeling,  I  would  warn  the 
American  people,  and  the  American  government,  to  be  wise  in  their 
day  and  generation.  I  exhort  them  to  remember  the  history  of 
other  nations;  and  I  remind  them  that  America  cannot  always  sit 
"as  a  queen,"  in  peace  and  repose;  that  prouder  and  stronger  gov- 
ernments than  this  have  been  shattered  by  the  bolts  of  a  just  God ; 
that  the  time  7nay  come  when  those  they  now  despise  and  hate,  may 
be  needed ;  when  those  whom  they  now  compel  by  oppression  to 
b-e  enemies,^may  be  wanted  as  friends.  What  has  been,  may  be  again. 
There  is  a  point  be3'ond  which  human  endurance  cannot  go.  The 
crushed  worm  may  yet  turn  under  tEie  heel  of  the  oppressor.  I 
warn  them,  then,  with  all  solemnit}^  and  in  the  name  of  retributive 
justice,  to  look  to  their  ways ;  for  in  an  evil  hour,  those  sable  arras- 
that  have,  for  the  last  two  centuries,  been  engaged  in  cultivating 
and  adorning  the  fair  fields  of  our  country,  may  yet  become  the  in- 
struments of  terror,  desolation,  and  death,  throughout  our  borders. 

It  was  the  sage  of  the  Old  Dominion  that  said — while  speaking  of 
the  possibility  of  a  conflict  between  the  slaves  and  the  slaveholders 
—  "God  has  no  attribute  that  could  take  sides  with  the  oppressor 
in  such  a  contest.  I  tremble  for  my  country  when  I  reflect  that 
God  is  just,  and  that  his  justice  cannot  sleep  forever."  Such  is  the 
warning  voice  of  Thomas  Jefferson  ;  and  every  day's  experience  since 
its  utterance  until  now,  confirms  its  wisdom^  and  commends  its 
truth. 


WHAT  TO  THE  SLAVE  IS  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY? 

EXTRACT     FROM    AN    ORATION,    AT    ROCHESTER,    JULY   5,    1852. 

Fellow- Citizens  —  Pardon  me,  and  allow  me  to  ask,  why  am  I 
called  upon  to  speak  here  to-day?  What  have  I,  or  those  I  repre- 
sent, to  do  with  your  national  independence  ?  Are  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  political  freedom  and  of  natural  justice,  embodied  in  that 
Declaration  of  Independence,  extended  to  us  ?  and  am  I,  therefore, 
called  upon  to  bring  our  humble  offering  to  the  national  altar,  and 
to  confess  the  benefits,  and  express  devout  gratitude  for  the  bless- 
ings, resulting  from  your  independence  to  us  ? 

"Would  to  God,  both  for  your  sakes  and  ours,  that  an  affirmative 
answer  could  be  truthfully  returned  to  these  questions !  Then 
would  my  task  be  light,  and  my  burden  easy  and  delightful.  For 
who  is  there  so  cold  that  a  nation's  S3^mpathy  could  not  warm  him? 
Who  so  obdurate  and  dead  to  the  claims  of  gratitude,  that  would 
not  thankfully  acknowledge  such  priceless  benefits  ?  Who  so  stolid 
and  selfish,  that  would  not  give  his  voice  to  swell  the  hallelujahs 
of  a  nation's  jubilee,  when  the  chains  of  servitude  had  been  torn 
from  his  limbs  ?  I  am  not  that  man.  In  a  case  like  that,  the  dumb 
might  eloquently  speak,  and  the  "lame  man  leap  as  an  hart." 

But,  such  is  not  the  state  of  the  case.  I  say  it  with  a  sad  sense 
of  the  disparity  between  us.  I  am,  not  included  within  the  pale  of 
this  glorious  anniversary!  Your  high  independence  only  reveals 
the  immeasurable  distance  between  us.  The  blessings  in  which 
you  this  day  rejoice,  are  not  enjoyed  in  common.  Tue  rich  inheri- 
tance of  justice,  liberty,  prosperity,  and  independence,  bequeathed 
by  your  fathers,  is  shared  by  you,  not  by  me.  The  sunlight  that 
brought  life  and  healing  to  you,  has  brought  stripes  and  death  to 
me.  This  Fourth  of  July  is  i/ours,  not  mine,  Yoic  may  rejoice,  / 
must  mourn.  To  drag  a  man  in  fetters  into  th«  grand  illuminated 
temple  of  liberty,  and  call  upon  him  to  join  you  in  joyous  anthems, 
were  inhuman  mockery  and  sacrilegious  irony.     Do  you  mean,  cit- 


442  APPENDIX. 

izens,  to  mock  me,  by  asking  me  to  speak  to-day  I  If  so,  there  is  a 
parallel  to  your  conduct.  And  let  me  warn  you  that  it  is  danger- 
ous to  copy  the  example  of  a  nation  -whose  crimes,  towering  up  to 
heaven,  -were  thrown  down  by  the  breath  of  the  Almighty,  bury- 
ing that  nation  in  irrecoverable  ruin  !  I  can  to-day  take  up  the 
plaintive  lament  of  a  peeled  and  woe-smitten  people. 

"By  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  there  we  sat  down.  Yea!  we  wept 
■when  we  remembered  Zion.  We  hanged,  our  harps  upon  the  wil- 
lows in  the  midst  thereof.  For  there,  they  that  carried,  us  away 
captive,  required  of  us  a  song  ;  and  they  who  wasted  us  required 
of  us  mirth,  saying,  Sing  us  one  of  the  songs  of  Zion.  How  can  we 
sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange  land?  If  I  forget  thee,  0  Jerusa- 
lem, let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning.  If  I  do  not  remember 
thee,  let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth." 

Fellow-citizens,  above  your  national,  tumultuous  joy,  I  hear  the 
mournful  wail  of  millions,  whose  chains,  heavy  and  grievous  yes- 
terday, are  to-day  rendered  more  intolerable  by  the  jubilant  shouts 
that  reach  them.  If  I  do  forget,  if  I  do  not  faithfully  remember 
those  bleeding  children  of  sorrow  this  day,  "may  my  right  hand 
forget  her  cunning,  and  may  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth !  "  To  forget  them,  to  pass  lightly  over  their  wrongs,  and  to 
chime  in  with  the  popular  theme,  would  be  treason  most  scandalous 
and  shocking,  and  would  make  me  a  reproach  before  God  and  the 
world.  My  subject,  then,  fellow-citizens,  is  American  Slavery.  I 
shall  see  this  day  and  its  popular  charactei'istics  from  the  slave's 
point  of  view.  Standing  there,  identified  with  the  American  bond- 
man, making  his  wrongs  mine,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare,  with  all 
my  soul,  that  the  character  and  conduct  of  this  nation  never  looked 
blacker  to  me  than  on  this  Fourth  of  July.  Whether  we  tui-n  to  the 
declarations  of  the  past,  or  to  the  professions  of  the  present,  the 
conduct  of  the  nation  seems  equally  hideous  and  revolting.  America 
is  false  to  the  past,  false  to  the  present,  and  solemnly  binds  herself 
to  be  false  to  the  future.  Standing  with  God  and  the  crushed  and 
bleeding  slave  on  this  occasion,  I  will,  in  the  name  of  humanity 
which  is  outraged,  in  the  name  of  liberty  which  is  fettered,  in  the 
name  of  the  constitution  and  the  bible,  which  are  disregarded  and 
trampled  upon,  dare  to  call  in  question  and  to  denounce,  with  all  the 
emi)hasis  I  can  command,  everything  that  serves  to  perpetuate  sla- 
very—  the  great  sin  and  shame  of  America!  "I  will  not  equivo- 
cate;  I  will  not  excuse;"  I  will  use  the  severest  language  I  can 


WHAT  TO  THE  SLAVE  IS  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ?    443 

command;  and  yet  not  one  word  shall  escape  me  that  any  man, 
whose  judgment  is  not  blinded  by  prejudice,  or  who  is  not  at  heart 
a  slaveholder,  shall  not  confess  to  be  right  and  just. 

But  I  fancy  I  hear  some  one  of  my  audience  say,  it  is  just  in  this 
circumstance  that  5"ou  and  your  brother  abolitionists  fail  to  make  a 
favorable  impression  on  the  public  mind.  Would  you  argue  more, 
and  denounce  less,  would  you  persuade  more  and  rebuke  less,  your 
cause  would  be  much  more  likely  to  succeed.  But,  I  submit,  where 
all  is  plain  there  is  nothing  to  be  argued.  What  point  in  the  anti-sla- 
very creed  would  you  have  me  argue  ?  On  what  branch  of  the  sub- 
ject do  the  people  of  this  country  need  light?  Must  I  undertake 
to  prove  that  the  slave  is  a  man?  That  point  is  conceded  already. 
Nobody  doubts  it.  The  slaveholders  themselves  acknowledge  it  in 
the  enactment  of  >aws  for  their  government.  They  acknowledge  it 
when  they  punish  disobedience  on  the  part  of  the  slave.  There  are 
seventy-two  crimes  in  the  state  of  Virginia,  which,  if  committed  by 
a  black  man,  (no  matter  how  ignorant  he  be,)  subject  him  to  the 
punishment  of  death ;  while  only  two  of  these  same  crimes  will 
subject  a  white  man  to  the  like  punishment.  What  is  this  but  the 
acknowledgment  that  the  slave  is  a  moral,  intellectual,  and  respon- 
sible being.  The  manhood  of  the  slave  is  conceded.  It  is  admitted 
in  the  fact  that  southern  statute  books  are  covered  with  enactments 
forbidding,  under  severe  fines  and  penalties,  the  teaching  of  the 
slave  to  read  or  write.  When  you  can  point  to  any  such  laws,  in 
reference  to  the  beasts  of  the  field,  then  I  may  consent  to  argue  the 
manhood  of  the  slave.  When  the  dogs  in  3'our  streets,  wlien  tlie 
fowls  of  the  air,  when  the  cattle  on  your  hills,  when  the  fish  of  the 
sea,  and  the  reptiles  that  crawl,  shall  be  unable  to  distinguish  the 
slave  from  a  brute,  then  will  I  argue  with  you  that  the  slave  is  a 
man ! 

For  the  present,  it  is  enough  to  affirm  the  equal  manhood  of  the 
negro  race.  Is  it  not  astonishing  that,  while  we  are  plowing,  plant- 
ing, and  reaping,  using  all  kinds  of  mechanical  tools,  erecting  houses, 
constructing  bridges,  building  ships,  working  in  metals  of  brass, 
iion,  copper,  silver,  and  gold;  that,  while  we  are  reading,  writing, 
and  cyphering,  acting  as  clerks,  merchants,  and  secretaries,  having 
among  us  lawyers,  doctors,  ministers,  poets,  authors,  editors,  ora- 
tors, and  -"eachers  ;  that,  while  we  are  engaged  in  all  manner  of  en- 
terprises common  to  other  men — digging  gold  in  California,  captur 
ing  the  whale  in  the  Pacific,  feeding  sheep  and  cattle  on  the  hiU 


444  APPEKDIX. 

side,  living,  moving,  acting,  thinking,  planning,  living  in  families 
as  husbands,  "wives,  and  children,  and,  above  all,  confessing  and  "wor- 
shiping the  christian's  God,  and  looking  hopefully  for  life  and  im- 
raortalit}"  beyond  the  grave, — "we  are  called  upon  to  prove  that  "we 
are  men ! 

Would  you  have  me  argue  that  man  is  entitled  to  liberty  ?  that 
he  is  the  rightful  owner  of  his  own  body  ?  You  have  already  de- 
clared it.  Must  I  argue  the  wrongfulness  of  slaver}"?  Is  that  a 
question  for  republicans  ?  Is  it  to  be  settled  by  the  rules  of  logic 
and  argumentation,  as  a  matter  beset  with  great  difficulty,  involving 
a  doubtful  application  of  the  principle  of  justice,  hard  to  be  under- 
stood? How  should  I  look  to-day  in  the  presence  of  Americans, 
dividing  and  subdividing  a  discourse,  to  show  that  men  have  a  nat- 
ural right  to  freedom,  speaking  of  it  relatively  and' positively,  nega- 
tively and  affirmatively?  To  do  so,  would  be  to  make  myself  ridic- 
ulous, and  to  offer  an  insult  to  your  understanding.  There  is  not  a 
man  beneath  the  canopy  of  heaven  that  does  not  know  that  slavery 
is  wrong  for  him. 

What !  am  I  to  argue  that  it  is  wrong  to  make  men  brutes,  to 
rob  them  of  their  liberty,  to  w^ork  them  without  wages,  to  keep 
them  ififnorant  of  their  relations  to  their  fellow-men,  to  beat  them 
with  sticks,  to  fla}^  their  flesh  with  the  lash,  to  load  their  limbs  with 
irons,  to  hunt  them  with  dogs,  to  sell  them  at  auction,  to  sunder 
their  families,  to  knock  out  their  teeth,  to  burn  their  flesh,  to  starve 
them  into  obedience  and  submission  to  their  masters  ?  Must  I  argue 
that  a  system,  thus  marked  with  blood  and  stained  with  pollution, 
is  wrong  ?  IS^o ;  I  will  not.  I  have  better  employment  for  my  time 
and  strength  than  such  arguments  would  imply. 

What,  then,  remains  to  be  argued?  Is  it  that  slavery  is  not  di- 
vine ;  that  God  did  not  establish  it ;  that  our  doctors  of  divinity  are 
mistaken?  There  is  blasphemy  in  the  thought.  That  which  is  in- 
human cannot  be  divine.  Who  can  reason  on  such  a  pi'oposition! 
They  that  can,  may ;  I  cannot.  The  time  for  such  argument  is 
past. 

At  a  time  like  this,  scorching  irony,  not  convincing  argument,  is 
needed.  Oh!  had  I  the  ability,  and  could  I  reach  the  nation's 
ear,  1  would  to-day  pour  out  a  fiery  stream  of  biting  ridicule, 
blasting  reproach,  withering  sarcasm,  and  stern  rebuke.  For  it  is 
not  light  that  is  needed,  but  fire;  it  is  not  the  gentle  shower,  but 
thunder.     We  need  the  storm,  the  whirlwind,  and  the  earth qiiake. 


WHAT  TO  TIIE  SLAVE  IS  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ?         445 

The  feeling  of  the  nation  must  be  quickened  ;  the  conscience  of  the 
nation  must  be  roused;  the  propriety  of  the  nation  must  be  startled; 
the  hj'pocrisy  of  the  nation  must  be  exposed;  and  its  crimes  against 
God  and  man  must  be  proclaimed  and  denounced. 

What  to  the  American  slave  is  your  Fourth  of  July  ?  I  answer,  a 
day  that  reveals  to  him,  more  than  all  other  daj's  in  the  year,  the 
gross  injustice  and  cruelty  to  which  he  is  the  constant  victim.  To 
him,  your  celebration  is  a  sham  ;  your  boasted  liberty,  an  unholy  li- 
cense; your  national  greatness,  swelling  vanity;  your  sounds  of  re- 
joicing are  empty  and  heartless;  3-our  denunciations  of  tyrants, 
brass-fronted  impudence  ;  your  shouts  of  liberty  and  equality,  hol- 
low mockery ;  your  praj^ers  and  hymns,  your  sermons  and  thanks- 
givings, with  all  your  religious  parade  and  solemnity,  are  to  him 
mere  bombast,  fraud,  deception,  impiety,  and  hypocrisy — a  thin 
veil  to  cover  up  crimes  which  would  disgrace  a  nation  of  savages. 
There  is  not  a  nation  on  the  earth  guilty  of  practices  more  shock- 
ing and  bloody,  than  are  the  j)eople  of  these  United  States,  at  this 
fery  hour. 

Go  where  you  may,  search  where  you  will,  roam  through  all  the 
monarchies  and  despotisms  of  the  old  world,  travel  through  South 
America,  search  out  every  abuse,  and  when  you  have  found  the 
last,  lay  your  facts  by  the  side  of  the  every-day  practices  of  this 
nation,  and  you  will  say  with  me,  that,  for  revolting  barbarity  and 
shameless  hypocrisy,  America  reigns  without  a  rival. 


THE  INTERNAL  SLAVE  TRADE. 

EXTRACT  FROM    AN    ORATION,  AT  ROCHESTER,  JULY   5,  1852. 

Take  tlie  American  slave  trade,  which,  we  are  told  by  the  papers, 
is  especially  prosperous  just  now.  Ex-senator  Benton  t^lls  ns  that 
the  price  of  men  was  never  higher  than  now.  He  mentions  the 
fact  to  show  that  slavery  is  in  no  danger.  This  trade  is  one  of  the 
peculiarities  of  American  institutions.  It  is  carried  on  in  all  the 
large  towns  and  cities  in  one-half  of  this  confederacy;  and  millions 
are  pocketed  every  year  by  dealers  in  this  horrid  traffic.  In  seve- 
ral states  this  trade  is  a  chief  source  of  wealth.  It  is  called  (in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  foreign  slave  trade)  "  the  internal  slave  trade." 
It  is,  probably,  called  so,  too,  in  order  to  divert  from  it  the  horror 
with  which  the  foreign  slave  trade  is  contemplated.  That  trade 
has  long  since  been  denounced  by  this  government  as  piracy.  It 
has  been  denounced  with  burning  words,  from  the  high  places  of 
the  nation,  as  an  execrable  traffic.  To  arrest  it,  to  put  an  end  to 
it,  this  nation  keeps  a  squadron,  at  immense  cost,  on  the  coast  of 
Africa.  Everywhere  in  this  country,  it  is  safe  to  speak  of  this  for- 
eign slave  trade  as  a  most  inhuman  traffic,  opposed  alike  to  the  laws 
of  God  and  of  man.  The  duty  to  extirpate  and  destroy  it  is  admit- 
ted even  by  our  doctors  of  divinity.  In  order  to  put  an  end  to  it, 
some  of  these  last  have  consented  that  their  colored  brethren  (nom- 
inally free)  should  leave  this  countr^T-,  and  establish  themselves  on 
the  western  coast  of  Africa.  It  is,  however,  a  notable  fact,  that, 
while  so  much  execration  is  poured  out  by  Americans,  upon  those 
engaged  in  the  foreign  slave  trade,  the  men  engaged  in  the  slave 
trade  between  the  states  pass  without  condemnation,  and  their 
business  is  deemed  honorable. 

Behold  the  practical  operation  of  this  internal  slave  trade — the 
American  slave  trade  sustained  hj  Amei'ican  politics  and  American 
religion !  Here  you  will  see  men  and  women  reared  like  swine  for 
the  market     You  know  what  is  a  swine-drover?     I  will  show  you 


THE  LVfTERNAL  SLAVE  TRADE.  447 

a  man-di'over.  They  inhabit  all  our  southern  states.  They  peram- 
bulate the  countr}',  and  crowd  the  highways  of  the  nation  with 
droves  of  human  stock.  You  will  see  one  of  these  human-flesh-job- 
bers,  armed  with  pistol,  whip,  and  boijvie-knife,  driving  a  company 
of  a  hundred  men,  women,  and  children,  from  the  Potomac  to  the 
slave  market  at  Xew  Orleans.  These  wretched  people  are  to  be  sold 
singly,  or  in  lots,  to  suit  piirehasers.  They  are  food  for  the  cotton- 
field  and  the  deadly  sugar-mill.  Mark  the  sad  procession  as  it 
moves  wearily  along,  and  the  inhuman  wretch  who  drives  them. 
Hear  his  savage  yells  and  his  blood-chilling  oaths,  as  he  hurries  on 
his  affrighted  captives.  There,  see  the  old  man,  with  locks  thinned 
and  gray.  Cast  one  glance,  if  you  please,  upon  that  young  mother, 
whose  shoulders  are  bare  to  the  scorching  sun,  her  briny  tears  fall- 
ina:  on  the  brow  of  the  babe  in  her  arms.  See,  too,  that  girl  of 
thirteen,  weeping,  3^es,  -weeping,  as  she  thinks  of  the  mother  from 
whom  she  has  been  torn.  The  drove  moves  tardily.  Heat  and  sor- 
row have  nearly  consumed  their  strength.  Suddenly  you  hear  a 
quick  snap,  like  the  discharge  of  a  rifle  ;  the  fetters  clank,  and  the 
chain  rattles  simultaneously ;  your  ears  are  saluted  with  a  scream 
that  seems  to  have  torn  its  wa}"  to  the  center  of  your  soul.  The 
crack  you  heard  was  the  sound  of  the  slave  whip  ;  the  scream  you 
heard  was  from  the  woman  you  saw  with  the  babe.  Her  speed 
had  faltered  under  the  weight  of  her  child  and  her  chains ;  that 
gash  on  her  shoulder  tells  her  to  move  on.  Follow  this  drove  to 
New  Orleans.  Attend  the  auction  ;  see  men  examined  like  hor.«es; 
see  the  forms  of  women  rudely  and  brutally  exposed  to  the  shock- 
ing gaze  of  American  slave-buj'ers.  See  this  drove  sold  and  sepa- 
rated forever ;  and  never  forget  the  deep,  sad  sobs  that  arose 
from  that  scattered  multitude.  Tell  me,  citizens,  where,  under  the 
sun,  can  you  witness  a  spectacle  more  fiendish  and  shocking.  Yet 
this  is  but  a  glance  at  the  Amei'iean  slave  trade,  as  it  exists  at  this 
moment,  in  the  ruling  part  of  the  United  States. 

I  was  boi-n  amid  such  sights  and  scenes.  To  me  the  American 
slave  trade  is  a  terrible  reality.  When  a  child,  my  soul  was  often 
pierced  with  a  sense  of  its  horrors.  I  lived  on  Philpot  street,  Fell's 
Point,  Baltimore,  and  have  watched  from  the  wharves  the  slave 
ships  in  the  basin,  anchored  from  the  shore,  with  their  cargoes  of 
hiiman  flesh,  waiting  for  favorable  winds  to  waft  them  down  the 
Chesapeake.  There  was,  at  that  time,  a  grand  slave  mart  kept  at 
the  head  of  Pratt  street,  by  Austin  Woldfolk.     His  agents  wera 


448  APPENDIX, 

Bent  into  every  town  and  county  in  Maryland,  announcing  their  ar- 
rival through  the  papers,  and  on  flaming  hand-bills,  headed,  "  cash 
for  negroe?."  These  men  were  generally  well  dressed,  and  very 
captivating  in  their  manners;  ever  ready  to  drink,  to  treat,  and  to 
gamble.  The  fate  of  many  a  slave  has  depended  upon  the  turn  of 
a  single  card ;  and  many  a  child  has  been  snatched  from  the  arms 
of  its  mother  by  bargains  arranged  in  a  state  of  brutal  drunk- 
enness. 

The  flesh-mongers  gather  up  their  victims  by  dozens,  and  drive 
them,  chained,  to  the  general  depot  at  Baltimore.  When  a  suffi- 
cient number  have  been  collected  here,  a  ship  is  chartered,  for  the 
purpose  of  conveying  the  forlorn  crew  to  Mobile  or  to  New  Orleans. 
From  the  slave-prison  to  the  ship,  they  are  usually  driven  in  the 
darkness  of  night;  for  since  the  anti-slavery  agitation  a  certain  cau- 
tion is  observed. 

In  the  deep,  still  darkness  of  midnight,  I  have  been  often  aroused 
by  the  dead,  heavy  footsteps  and  the  piteous  cries  of  the  chained 
gangs  that  passed  our  door.  The  anguish  of  my  boyish  heart  was 
intense;  and  I  was  often  consoled,  when  speaking  to  my  mistress 
in  the  morning,  to  hear  her  say  that  the  custom  was  very  wicked; 
that  she  hated  to  hear  the  rattle  of  the  chains,  and  the  heart-rend- 
ing cries.  I  was  glad  to  find  one  who  sympathized  with  me  in  my 
horror. 

Fellow-citizens,  this  murderous  traffic  is  to-day  in  active  opera- 
tion in  this  boasted  republic.  In  the  solitude  of  my  spirit,  I  see 
clouds  of  dust  raised  on  the  highways  of  the  south  ;  I  see  the  bleed- 
ing footsteps  ;  I  hear  the  doleful  wail  of  fettered  humanit}^,  on  the 
way  to  the  slave  markets,  where  the  victims  are  to  be  sold  like 
horses,  sheep,  and  swine,  knocked  off  to  the  highest  bidder.  There 
I  see  the  tenderest  ties  ruthlessly  broken,  to  gratify  the  lust,  ca- 
price, and  rapacity  of  the  buyers  and  sellers  of  men.  My  soul  sick- 
ens at  the  sight. 

"Is  this  the  land  your  fathers  loved  ? 
The  freedom  which  they  toiled  to  win? 
Is  this  the  earth  whereon  they  moved  ? 
Are  these  the  graves  they  slumber  iu  ?  " 

But  a  still  more  inhuman,  disgraceful,  and  scandalous  state  of 
things  remains  to  be  presented.  By  an  act  of  the  American  con- 
gresg,  not  yet  two  years  old,  slavery  has  been  nationalized  in  its 


THE  tNTEENAL  SLAVE  TlJADE,  449 

• 

most  horrible  and  revolting  form.  By  that  act,  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line  has  been  obliterated  ;  New  York  has  become  as  Virginia;  and 
the  power  to  hold,  hunt,  and  sell  men,  women,  and  children  as  slaves, 
remains  no  longer  a  mere  state  institution,  but  is  now  an  institution 
of  the  whole  United  States.  The  power  is  co-extensive  with  the 
star-spangled  banner  and  American  Christianity.  Where  these  go, 
may  also  go  the  merciless  slave-hunter.  Where  these  are,  man  is 
not  sacred.  He  is  a  bird  for  the  sportsman's  gun.  By  that  moat 
foul  and  fiendish  of  all  human  decrees,  the  liberty  and  person  of 
every  man  are  put  in  peril.  Your  broad  republican  domain  is  a 
hunting-ground  for  men.  Not  for  thieves  and  robbers,  enemies  of 
society,  merel}^  but  for  men  guilty  of  no  crime.  Your  law-makers 
have  commanded  all  good  citizens  to  engage  in  this  hellish  sport. 
Your  president,  your  secretary  of  state,  your  lords,  nobles,  and  ec- 
clesiastics, enforce  as  a  duty  you  owe  to  your  free  and  glorious  coun- 
try and  to  your  God,  that  you  do  this  accursed  thing.  Not  fewer 
than  forty  Americans  have  within  the  past  two  years  been  hunted 
down,  and  without  a  moment's  warning,  hurried  away  in  chains, 
and  consigned  to  slavery  and  excruciating  torture.  Some  of  these 
have  had  wives  and  children  dependent  on  them  for  bread  ;  but  of 
this  no  account  was  made.  The  right  of  the  hunter  to  his  prey, 
stands  superior  to  the  right  of  marriage,  and  to  all  rights  in  this  re- 
public, the  rights  of  God  included!  For  black  men  there  are  nei- 
ther law,  justice,  humanity,  nor  religion.  The  fugitive  slave  law 
makes  mercy  to  them  a  crime;  and  bribes  the  judge  who  tries  them. 
An  American  judge  gets  ten  dollars  for  every  victim  he  consigns 
to  slavery,  and  five,  when  he  fails  to  do  so.  The  oath  of  and  two 
villians  is  sufficient,  under  this  hell-black  enactment,  to  send  the 
most  pious  and  exemplary  black  man  into  the  remorseless  jaws  of 
slavery  I  His  own  testimony  is  nothing.  He  can  bring  no  wit- 
nesses for  himself.  The  minister  of  American  justice  is  bound  by  the 
law  to  hear  but  one  side;  and  that  side  is  the  side  of  the  oppressor. 
Let  this  damning  fact  be  perpetually  told.  Let  it  be  thundered 
around  the  world,  that,  in  tyrant-killing,  king-hating,  people-lov- 
ing, democratic,  christian  America,  the  seats  of  justice  are  filled 
with  judges,  who  hold  their  office  under  an  open  and  palpable  bribe, 
and  are  bound;  in  deciding  in  the  case  of  a  man's  liberty,  to  hear  only 
his  accusers  I 

In  glaring  violation  of  justice,  in  shamelesss  disregard  of  the  forms 
of  administering  law,  in  cunning  arrangement  to  entrap  the  de- 

29 


450  APPENDIX. 

fenseless,  and  in  diabolical  intent,  this  fugitive  slave  law  stands 
alone  in  the  annals  of  tyrannical  legislation.  I  doubt  if  there  be 
another  nation  on  the  globe  having  the  brass  and  the  baseness  to 
put  such  a  law  on  the  statute-book.  If  any  man  in  this  assembly 
thinks  differently  from  me  in  this  matter,  and  feels  able  to  disprove 
my  statements,  I  will  gladly  confront  him  at  any  suitable  time  and 
place  he  may  select. 


THE  SLAVERY  PARTY. 

EXTRACT  FROM  A  SPEECH  DELIVERED    BEFORE  THE  A.  A.  S.  SOCI- 
ETY, IN  NEW  YORK,  MAY,  1853. 

Sir,  it  is  evident  that  there  is  in  this  country  a  purely  slavery 
party  —  a  party  which  exists  for  no  other  earthly  purpose  but  to 
promote  the  interests  of  slavery.  The  presence  of  this  party  is  felt 
everywhere  in  the  republic.  It  is  known  by  no  particular  name, 
and  has  assumed  no  definite  shape ;  but  its  branches  reach  far  and 
wide  in  the  church  and  in  the  state.  This  shapeless  and  nameless 
party  is  not  intangible  in  other  and  more  important  respects.  That 
party,  sir,  has  determined  upon  a  fixed,  definite,  and  comprehen- 
sive policy  toward  the  whole  colored  population  of  the  United 
States.  "What  that  policy  is,  it  becomes  us  as  abolitionists,  and  es- 
pecially does  it  become  the  colored  people  themselves,  to  consider 
and  to  undei'stand  fully.  We  ought  to  know  who  our  enemies  are, 
where  th^y  are,  and  what  are  their  objects  and  measures.  "Well, 
sir,  here  is  my  version  of  it  —  not  original  with  me  —  but  mine  be- 
cause I  hold  it  to  be  tru-e. 

I  imderstand  this  policy  to  comprehend  five  cardinal  objects. 
They  are  these  :  1st.  The  complete  suppression  of  all  anti-slavery 
discussion.  2d.  The  expatriation  of  the  entire  free  people  of  color 
from  the  United  States.  Sd.  The  unending  perpetuation  of  slavery 
in  this  republic.  4th.  The  nationalization  of  slavery  to  the  extent 
©f  making  slavery  respected  in  ^very  state  of  the  Union.  5th.  The 
extension  of  slavery  over  Mexico  and  the  entire  South  American 

states. 

Sir,  these  objects  are  forcibly  presented  to  us  in  the  stern  logic 
of  passing  events  ;  in  the  facts  which  are  and  have  been  passing 
around  us  during  the  last  three  years.  The  country  has  been  and 
is  now  di\dding  on  these  grand  issues.  In  their  magnitude,  these 
issues  east  all  others  into  the  shade,  depriving  them  of  all  life  and 
vitality.     Old  party  ties  are  broken.     Like  is  finding  its  like  on 


452  APPENDIX. 

either  side  of  these  great  issues,  and  the  great  battle  is  at  hand. 
For  the  present,  the  best  representative  of  the  slarerj  party  in  pol- 
itics is  the  democratic  party.  Its  great  head  for  the  present  is 
President  Pierce,  whose  boast  it  was,  before  his  election,  that  his 
whole  life  had  been  consistent  with  the  interests  of  slavery,  that  he 
is  above  reproach  on  that  s<!ore.  In  his  inaugural  address,  he  re- 
assures the  sotith  on  this  point.  "Well,  the  head  of  the  slave  power 
being  in  power,  it  is  natural  that  the  pro-slarery  elements  should 
cluster  around  the  administration,  and  this  is  rapidly  being  done. 
A  fraternization  is  going  on.  The  stringent  prote-etionists  and  the 
free-traders  strike  hands.  The  supporters  of  Fillmore  are  becom- 
ing the  supporters  of  Pierce.  The  silver-gray  whig  shakes  hands 
with  the  hunker  democrat;  the  former  only  differing  from  the  lat- 
ter in  name.  Tliey  are  of  one  heart,  one  mind,  and  the  union  is 
natural  and  perhaps  inevitable.  Both  hate  negroes ;  both  hate 
progress  ;  both  hate  the  "higher  law  ;  "  both  hate  William  H.  Sew- 
ard ;  both  hate  the  free  democratic  party;  and  upon  this  hateful 
basis  they  are  forming  a  union  of  hatred.  "Pilate  and  Herod  are 
thus  made  friends."  Even  the  central  organ  of  the  whig  party  is 
extending  its  beggar  hand  for  a  morsel  from  the  table  of  slavery 
democracy,  and  when  spurned  from  the  feast  by  the  more  deserv- 
ing, it  pockets  the  insult ;  when  kicked  on  one  side  it  turns  the 
other,  and  perseveres  in  its  importunities.  The  fact  is,  that  paper 
comprehends  the  demands  of  the  times ;  it  understands  the  age  and 
its  issues ;  it  wisely  sees  that  slavery  and  freedom  are  the  great  an- 
tagonistic forces  in  the  country,  and  it  goes  to  its  own  side.  Silver 
grays  and  hunkers  all  understand  this.  They  are,  therefore,  rap- 
idly sinking  all  other  questions  to  nothing,  compared  with  the  in- 
creasing demands  of  slavery.  Tliey  are  collecting,  arranging,  and 
consolidating  their  forces  for  the  accomplishment  of  their  appointed 
work. 

The  keystone  to  the  arch  of  this  grand  union  of  the  slavery  party 
of  the  United  States,  is  the  compromise  of  1850.  In  that  compro- 
mise we  have  all  the  objects  of  our  slaveholding  policy  specified. 
It  is,  sir,  favorable  .to  this  view  of  the  designs  of  the  slave  power, 
that  both  the  whig  and  the  democraiic  party  bent  lower,  sunk 
deeper,  and  strained  harder,  in  their  conventions,  preparatory-  to 
the  late  presidential  election,  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  slavery 
party  than  at  any  previous  time  in  their  history.  Never  did  par- 
ties come  before  the  northern  people  with  propositions  of  such  un- 


THE  SLAYEEY  PARTY.  453 

disguised  contempt  for  the  moral  sentiment  and  the  religions  ideas 
of  that  people.  They  virtually  asked  them  to  unite  in  a  war  upon 
free  speech,  and  upon  conscience,  and  to  drive  the  Almighty  presence 
from  the  councils  of  the  nation.  Resting  their  platforms  upon  the 
fugitive  slave  bill,  they  boldly  ashed  the  people  for  political  power 
to  execute  the  horrible  and  hell-black  provisions  of  tliat  bill.  The  his- 
tory of  that  election  reveals,  with  great  clearness,  the  extent  to  which 
slavery  has  shot  its  leprous  distillment  through  the  life-blood  of  the 
nation.  The  party  most  thoroughlj^  opposed  to  the  cause  of  justice 
and  humanity,  triumphed ;  while  the  party  suspected  of  a  leaning 
toward  liberty,  was  overwhelmingly  defeated,  some  say  annihilated. 

But  here  is  a  still  more  important  fact,  illustrating  the  designs 
of  the  slave  power.  It  is  a  fact  full  of  meaning,  that  no  sooner  did 
the  democratic  slavery  party  come  into  power,  than  a  sj'stem  of  le- 
gislation was  presented  to  the  legislatures  of  the  northern  states,- 
designed  to  put  the  states  in  harmony  with  the  fugitive  slave  law, 
and  the  malignant  bearing  of  the  national  government  toward  the 
colored  inhabitants  of  the  country.  This  whole  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  states,  bears  the  evidence  of  having  one  origin,  ema- 
nating from  one  head,  and  urged  forward  by  one  power.  It  was 
simultaneous,  uniform,  and  general,  and  looked  to  one  end.  It 
was  intended  to  put  thorns  under  feet  already  bleeding  ;  to 
crush  a  people  already  bowed  down ;  to  enslave  a  jjeople  already 
but  half  free  ;  in  a  woi"d,  it  was  intended  to  discourage,  dishearten, 
and  drive  the  free  colored  people  out  of  the  country.  In  looking 
at  the  recent  black  law  of  Illinois,  one  is  struck  dumb  with  its  enor- 
mity. It  would  seem  that  the  men  who  enacted  that  law,  had  not 
only  banished  from  their  minds  all  sense  of  justice,  but  all  sense  of 
shame.  It  coolly  proposes  to  sell  the  bodies  and  souls  of  the  black 
to  increase  the  intelligence  and  refinement  of  the  whites;  to  rob 
every  black  stranger  who  ventures  among  them,  to  increase  their 
literary  fund. 

While  this  is  going  on  in  the  states,  a  pro-slavery,  political  board 
of  health  is  established  at  Washington.  Senators  Hale,  Chase,  and 
Sumner  are  robbed  of  a  part  of  their  senatorial  dignity  and  conse- 
quence as  representing  sovereign  states,  because  they  have  refused 
to  be  inoculated  with  the  slavery  virus.  Among  the  services  which 
a  senator  is  expected  by  his  state  to  perform,  are  many  that  can 
only  be  done  efficiently  on  committees;  and,  in  saying  to  these  hon- 
orable senators,  you  shall  not  serve  on  the  committees  of  this  body, 


454  APPENDIX. 

the  slavery  party  took  tlie  responsibility  of  robbing  and  insulting 
the  states  that  sent  them.  It  is  an  attempt  at  Washington  to  de- 
cide for  the  states  who  shall  be  sent  to  the  senate.  Sir,  it  strikes 
me  that  this  aggression  on  the  part  of  the  slave  power  did  not  meet 
at  the  hands  of  the  proscribed  senators  the  rebuke  which  we  had  a 
right  to  expect  would  be  administered.  It  seems  to  me  that  an  op- 
portunity was  lost,  that  the  great  principle  of  senatorial  equality 
was  left  undefended,  at  a  time  when  its  vindication  was  sternly 
demanded.  But  it  is  not  to  the  purpose  of  my  present  statement 
to  criticise  the  conduct  of  our  friends.  I  am  persuaded  that  much 
ought  to  be  left  to  the  discretion  of  anti-slavery  men  in  congress, 
and  charges  of  recreancy  shoiild  never  be  made  but  on  the  most 
sufficient  grounds.  For,  of  all  the  places  in  the  world  where  an 
anti-slavery  man  needs  the  confidence  and  encouragement  of  friends, 
I  take  Washington  to  be  that  place. 

Let  me  now  call  attention  to  the  social  influences  which  are 
operating  and  cooperating  with  the  slavery  party  of  the  coun- 
try, designed  to  contribute  to  one  or  all  of  the  grand  objects 
aimed  at  by  that  party.  We  see  here  the  black  man  attacked 
in  his  vital  interests ;  prejudice  and  hate  are  excited  against  him ; 
enmity  is  stirred  up  between  him  and  other  laborers.  The 
Irish  people,  warm-hearted,  generous,  and  sympathizing  with  the 
oppressed  everywhere,  when  they  stand  upon  their  own  green 
island,  are  instantly  taught,  on  arriving  in  this  christian  country, 
to  hate  and  despise  the  colored  people.  They  are  taught  to  be- 
lieve that  we  eat  the  bread  which  of  right  belongs  to  them.  The 
cruel  lie  is  told  the  Irish,  that  our  adversity  is  essential  to  their 
prosperity.  Sir,  the  Irish-American  will  find  out  his  mistake  one 
day.  He  will  find  that  in  assuming  our  avocation  he  also  has  as- 
sumed our  degradation.  But  for  the  present  we  are  sufferers.  The 
old  employments  by  which  we  have  heretofore  gained  our  livelihood, 
are  gradually,  and  it  may  be  inevitably,  passing  into  other  hands. 
Every  hour  sees  us  elbowed  out  of  some  emj^loyment  to  make  room 
perhaps  for  some  newly-arrived  emigrants,  whose  hunger  and  color 
are  thought  to  give  them  a  title  to  especial  favor.  Yf  hite  men  are 
becoming  house-servants,  cooks,  and  stewards,  common  laborers, 
and  flunkeys  to  oiir  gentry,  and,  for  aught  I  see,  the}'  adjust  them- 
selves to  their  stations  with  all  becoming  obsequiousness.  This  fact 
proves  that  if  we  cannot  rise  to  the  whites,  the  whites  can  fall  to 
us.    Now,  sir,  look  once  more.    While  the  colored  people  are  thus 


THE  SLAVERY  PAHTY.  455 

elbowed  out  of  employment ;  while  the  enmity  of  emigrants  is  be- 
ing excited  against  us ;  while  state  after  state  enacts  laws  against 
us;  while  we  are  hunted  down,  like  wild  game,  and  oppressed  with 
a  general  feeling  of  insecurity, — the  American  colonization  society 
—  that  old  offender  against  the  best  interests  and  slanderer  of  the 
colored  people  —  awakens  to  new  life,  and  vigorously  presses  its 
scheme  upon  the  consideration  of  the  people  and  the  govern- 
ment. New  papers  are  started  —  some  for  the  north  and  some  for 
the  south — and  each  in  its  tone  adapting  itself  to  its  latitude.  -Gov- 
ernment, state  and  national,  is  called  upon  for  appropriations  to 
enable  the  society  to  send  us  out  of  the  country  by  steam !  They 
want  steamers  to  carry  letters  and  negroes  to  Africa.  Evidently, 
this  society  looks  upon  our  "extremity  as  its  opportunity,"  and  we 
may  expect  that  it  will  use  the  occasion  welL  They  do  not  de- 
plore, but  glory,  in  our  misfortunes. 

But,  sir,  I  must  hasten.     I  have  thus  briefly  given  my  view  of 
one  aspect  of  the  present  condition  and  future  prospects  of  the  col- 
ored people  of  the  United  States.     And  what  I  have  said  is  far  from 
encouraging  to  my  afliicted  people.     I  have  seen  the  cloud  gather 
upon  the  sable  brows  of  some  who  hear  me.     I  confess  the  case 
looks  black  enough.     Sir,  I  am  not  a  hopeful  man.     I  think  I  am 
apt  even  to  undercalculate  the  benefits  of  the  future.     Yet,  sir,  in 
this  seemingly  desperate   case,   I  do  not  despair  for  my   people. 
There  is  a  bright  side  to  almost  every  picture  of  this  kind;  and 
ours  is  no  exception  to  the  genei*al  rule.     If  the  influences  against 
us  are  strong,  those  for  us  are  also  strong.     To  the  inquiry,  will  our 
enemies  prevail  in  the  execution  of  their  designs.     In  my  God  and 
in  my  soul,  I  believe  they  will  not.     Let  us  look  at  the  first  oliject 
sought  for  by  the  slavery  party  of  the  country,  viz  :  the  suppression 
of  anti-slavery  discussion.     They  desire  to  suppress  discussion  on 
this  subject,  with  a  view  to  the  peace  of  the  slaveholder  and  the 
security  of  slavery.     Now,  sir,  neither  the  principle  nor  the  subor- 
dinate objects  here  declared,  can  be  at  all  gained  by  the  slave  power, 
and  for  this  reason  :     It  involves  the  proposition  to  padlock  the 
lips  of  the  whites,  in  order  to  secure  the  fetters  on  the  limbs  of  the 
blacks.     The  right  of  speech,  precious  and  priceless,  cannot,  will  not, 
be  surrendered  to  slavery.     Its  suppression  is  asked  for,  as  I  have 
said,  to  give  peace  and  security  to  slaveholders.     Sir,  that  thing 
cannot  be  done.     God  has  interposed  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  any 
such  result.     "There  can  be  no  peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked." 


456  APPENDIX. 

Suppose  it  "were  possible  to  put  down  this  discussion,  wliat  would 
it  avail  the  guilty  slaveholder,  pillowed  as  he  is  upon  the  heaving 
bosoms  of  ruined  souls?  He  could  not  have  a  peaceful  spirit.  If 
every  anti-slavery  tongue  in  the  nation  were  silent  —  every  anti- 
slavery  organization  dissolved  —  every  anti-slavery  press  demol- 
ished—  every  anti-slavery  periodical,  paper,  book,  pamphlet,  or 
what  not,  were  searched  out,  gathered  together,  deliberately  burned 
to  ashes,  and  their  ashes  given  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  still, 
still  the  slaveholder  could  have  "wo  peace."  In  every  pulsation  of 
his  heart,  in  every  throb  of  his  life,  in  every  glance  of  his  eye,  in 
the  breeze  that  soothes,  and  in  the  thunder  that  startles,  would  be 
waked  up  an  accuser,  whose  cause  is,  "  Thou  art,  verily,  guilty  con- 
cerning thy  brother." 


THE  ANTI-SLAVERY  MOVEMENT. 

EXTRACTS    FROM  A  LECTURE    BEFORE    VARIOUS    AXTI-SLAVERY 
BODIES,  IN    THE  WINTER  OF   1855. 

A  GRAXD  movement  on  the  part  of  mankind,  in  any  direction,  or 
for  any  purpose,  moral  or  political,  is  an  interesting  fact,  fit  and 
proper  to  be  studied.     It  is  such,  not  only  for  those  who  eagerly 
participate  in  it,  but  also- for  those  who  stand  aloof  from  it  —  even 
for  those  by  whom  it  is  opposed.     I  take  the  anti-slavery  movement 
to  be  srich  an  one,  and  a  movement  as  sublime  and  glorious  in  its 
character,  as  it  is  holy  and  beneficent  in  the  ends  it  aims  to  accom- 
plish.    At  this  moment,  I  deem  it  safe  to  say,  it  is  properly  en- 
grossing more  minds  in  this  country  than  any  other  subject  now  be- 
fore the  American  people.     The  late  John  C.  Calhoun — one  of  the 
miffhtiest  men  that  ever  stood  up  in  the  American  senate — did  not 
deem  it  beneath  him ;  and  he  probably  studied  it  as  deeply,  though 
not  as  honestly,  as   Gerrit  Smith,  or  William  Lloj'd  Garrison.     He 
evinced  the  greatest  familiarity  with  the  subject;  and  the  greatest 
efforts  of  his  last  years  in  the  senate  had  direct  reference  to  this 
movement.     His  eagle  eye  watched  every  new   development  con- 
nected with  it ;  and  he  was  ever  prompt  to  inform  the  south  of 
every  important  step  in  its  progress.     He  never  allowed  himself  to 
make  light  of  it ;  but  always  spoke  of  it  and  treated  it  as  a  matter 
of  grave  import ;  and  in  this  he  showed  himself  a  master  of  the 
mental,  moral,  and  religious  constitution  of  human  society.     Daniel 
Webster,  too,  in  the  better  days  of  his  life,  before  he  gave  his  assent 
to  the  fugitive  slave  bill,  and  trampled  upon  all  his  earlier  and  bet- 
ter convictions —  when  his  eye  vv'as  yet  single — he  clearly  compre- 
hended the  nature  of  the  elements  involved  in  this  movement;  and 
in  his  own  majestic  eloquence,  warned  the  south,  and  the  country, 
to  have  a  care  how  they  attempted  to  put  it  down.     He  is  an  illus- 
tration that  it  is  easier  to  give,  than  to  take,  good  advice.     To  these 
two  men — the  greatest  men  to  whom  the  nation  has  yet  given  birth— 

T 


458  APPENDIX. 

may  be  traced  the  two  great  facts  of  the  present — the  south  tri- 
umphant, and  the  north  humbled.  Their  names  may  stand  thus, — 
Calhoun  and  domination — Webster  and  degradation.  Yet  again. 
If  to  the  enemies  of  libert}^  this  subject  is  one  of  engrossing  inter- 
est, vastly  more  so  should  it  be  such  to  freedom's  friends.  The  lat- 
ter, it  leads  to  the  gates  of  all  vahiable  knowledge^philanthropic, 
ethical,  and  religious ;  for  it  brings  them  to  the  study  of  man,  won- 
derfully and  fearfully  made  —  the  proper  study  of  man  through  all 
time — the  open  book,  in  which  are  the  records  of  time  and  eternity. 
Of  the  existence  and  power  of  the  anti-slavery  movement,  as  a 
fact,  you  need  no  evidence.  The  nation  has  seen  its  face,  and  felt 
the  controlling  pressure  of  its  hand.  You  have  seen  it  moving  in. 
all  directions,  and  in  all  weathers,  and  in  all  places,  appearing  most 
where  desired  least,  and  pressing  hardest  where  most  resisted.  No 
place  is  exempt.  The  quiet  prayer  meeting,  and  the  stormy  balk 
of  national  debate,  share  its  presence  alike.  It  is  a  common  intru- 
der, and  of  course  has  the  name  of  being  imgentlemanly.  Brethren 
who  had  long  sung,  in  the  most  affectionate  fervor,  and  with  the 
greatest  sense  of  security, 

"Together  let  us  sweetly  live — together  let  us  die," 

have  been  suddenly  and  violently  separated  by  it,  and  ranged  in 
hostile  attitude  toward  each  other.  The  Methodist,  one  of  the  most 
powerful  religious  organizations  of  this  country,  has  been  rent  asun- 
der, and  its  sti'ongest  bolts  of  denominational  brotherhood  started 
at  a  single  surge.  It  has  changed  the  tone  of  the  northei'n  pulpit, 
and  modified  that  of  the  press.  A  celebrated  divine,  who,  four 
years  ago,  was  for  flinging  his  own  mother,  or  brother,  into  the  re- 
morseless jaws  of  the  monster  slavery,  lest  he  should  swallow  up 
the  Union,  now  recognizes  anti-slavery  as  a  characteristic  of  future 
civilization.  Signs  and  wonders  follow  this  movement ;  and  the 
fact  just  stated  is  one  of  them.  Party  ties  are  loosened  by  it;  and 
men  are  compelled  to  take  sides  for  or  against  it,  whether  they  will 
or  not.  Come  from  where  he  may,  or  come  for  what  he  may,  he  is 
compelled  to  show  his  hand.  What  is  this  mighty  force  ?  What  is 
its  history?  and  what  is  its  destiny?  Is  it  ancient  or  modern,  tran- 
sient or  permanent  ?  Has  it  turned  aside,  like  a  stranger  and  a  so- 
journer, to  tavrj  for  a  night?  or  has  it  come  to  rest  with  us  forever? 
Excellent  chances  are  here  for  speculation ;  and  some  of  them  are 
^uite  profound.     We  might,  for  instance,  proceed  to  inquire  not 


THE  ANTI-SLAVEKY  MOVEMENT.  459 

only  into  the  philosophy  of  the  anti-slavery  movement,  but  into  the 
philosophy  of  the  law,  in  obedience  to  which  that  movement  started 
into  existence.  We  might  demand  to  know  what  is  that  law  or 
power  which,  at  different  times,  disposes  tlie  minds  of  men  to  this 
or  that  particular  object — now  for  peace,  and  now  for  war — now  for 
freedom,  and  now  for  slavery;  but  this  profound  question  I  leave 
to  the  abolitionists  of  the  superior  class  to  answer.  The  speculations 
which  must  precede  such  answer,  would  afford,  pei'haps,  about  the 
same  satisfaction  as  the  learned  theories  which  have  rained  down 
upon  the  world,  from  time  to  time,  as  to  the  origin  of  evil.  I  shall, 
therefore,  avoid  water  in  which  I  cannot  swim,  and  deal  with  anti- 
slavery  as  a  fact,  like  any  other  fact  in  the  history  of  mankind,  ca- 
pable of  being  described  and  understood,  both  as  to  its  internal 
forces,  and  its  external  phases,  and  relations^ 

[After  an  eloquent,  a  full,  and  htgbly  interesting  exposition  of  tbe  nature,  cliarac:. 
ter,  and  liistory  of  the  anti-slavery  movement,  from  the  insertion  of  which  want  of 
space  precludes  us,  he  concluded  in  the  following  happy  manner.] 

Present  organizations  may  perish,  but  the  cause  will  go  on.  That 
cause  has  a  life,  distinct  and  independent  of  the  organizations 
patched  up  from  time  to  time  to  carry  it  forward.  Looked  at^ 
apart  from  the  bones  and  sinews  and  body,  it  is  a  thing  immortal. 
It  is  the  very  essence  of  justice,  liberty,  and  love.  The  moral  life 
of  human  society,  it  cannot  die  while  conscience,  honor,  and  hu- 
manity remain.  If  but  one  be  filled  with  it,  the  cause  lives.  Its 
incarnation  in  any  one  individual  man,  leaves  the  whole  world  a 
priesthood,  occupying  the  highest  moral  eminence — oven  that  of 
disinterested  benevolence.  Whoso  has  ascended  this  height,  and 
has  the  grace  to  stand  there,  has  the  world  at  his  feet,  and  is  the 
world's  teacher,  as  of  divine  right.  Ho  may  set  in  judgment  on  the 
age,  upon  the  civilization  of  the  age,  and  upon  the  religion  of  the 
age ;  for  he  has  a  test,  a  sure  and  certain  test,  by  which  to  try  all 
institutions,  and  to  measure  all  men.  I  say,  he  may  do  this,  bub 
this  is  not  the  chief  business  for  which  he  is  qitalified.  The  great 
work  to  which  he  is  called  is  not  that  of  judgment.  Like  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  he  may  say,  if  I  judge,  I  judge  righteous  judgment; 
still  mainly,  like  him,  he  may  say,  this  is  not  his  work.  The  man 
who  has  .thoroughly  embraced  tiie  principles  of  justice,  love,  and 
libert}',  like  the  true  preacher  of  Christianity,  is  less  anxious  to  re« 
proach  the  world  of  its  eins,  than  to  win  it  to  repentance^    Hia 


4:60  APPENDIX. 

great  -work  on  earth  is  to  exemplify,  and  to  illustrate,  and  to  in- 
graft tliose  principles  upon  the  living  and  practical  understandings 
of  all  men  within  the  reach  of  his  influence.  This  is  his  work  ;  long 
or  short  his  years,  man}'  or  few  his  adherents,  powerful  or  weak  his 
instrumentalities,  through  good  report,  or  through  bad  report,  this 
is  his  work.  It  is  to  snatch  from  the  bosom  of  nature  the  la- 
tent facts  of  each  individual  man's  experience,  and  with  steady  hand 
to  hold  them  up  fresh  and  glowing,  enforcing,  with  all  his  power, 
their  acknowledgment  and  practical  adoption.  If  there  be  but  07ie 
such  man  in  the  land,  no  matter  what  becomes  of  abolition  socie- 
ties and  parties,  there  will  be  an  anti-slavery  cause,  and  an  anti- 
slavery  movement-  Fortunately  for  that  cause,  and  fortunatel}^  for 
him  by  whom  it  is  espoused,  it  requires  no  extraordinary  amount 
of  talent  to  preach  it  or  to  receive  it  when  preached.  The  grand 
secret  of  its  power  is,  that  each  of  its  principles  is  easil}*  ren- 
dered appreciable  to  the  faculty  of  reason  in  man,  and  that  the  most 
unenlightened,  conscience  has  no  difficulty  in  deciding  on  which 
fiide  to  register  its  testimony.  It  can  call  its  preachers  from  among 
the  fishermen,  and  raise  them  to  power.  In  every  human  breast, 
it  has  an  advocate  which  can  be  silent  only  when  the  heart  is  dead. 
It  comes  home  to  every  man's  understanding,  and  appeals  directly 
to  every  man's  conscience.  A  man  that  does  not  recognize  and  ap- 
prove for  himself  the  rights  and  privileges  contended  for,  in  behalf  of 
the  American  slave,  has  not  yet  been  found.  In  whatever  else  men 
may  differ,  they  are  alike  in  the  apprehension  of  their  natural  and 
personal  rights.  The  difference  between  abolitionists  and  those  by 
whom  they  are  opposed,  is  not  as  to  principles.  All  are  agreed  in 
respect  to  these.  The  manner  of  applying  them  is  the  point  of 
difference. 

The  slaveholder  himself,  the  daily  robber  of  his  equal  brother, 
discourses  eloquently  as  to  the  excellency  of  justice,  and  the  man 
who  emploj's  a  brutal  driver  to  flay  the  flesh  of  his  negroes,  is  not 
offended  when  kindness  and  humanity  are  commended.  Ever}"^  time 
the  abolitionist  speaks  of  justice,  the  anti-abolitionist  assents — says, 
yes,  I  wish  the  world  were  filled  with  a  disposition  to  render  to 
every  man  what  is  rightfully  due  him ;  I  should  then  get  what  is 
due  me.  That's  right;  let  us  have  justice.  By  all  means,  let  us 
have  justice.  Ever}^  time  the  abolitionist  speaks  in  honor  of  hu- 
man liberty,  he  touches  a  chord  in  the  heart  of  the  anti-aboli- 
tionist, which  responds  in  harmonious  vibrations.     Liberty  —  yes, 


THE  ANTI-SLAVEKY  MOVEMENT.  461 

that  ia  very  evidently  my  right,  and  let  him  beware  who  at- 
tempts to  invade  or  abridge  that  right.  Every  time  he  speaks  of 
love,  of  human  brotherhood,  and  the  reciprocal  duties  of  man  and 
man,  the  anti-abolitionist  assents  —  says,  yes,  all  right  —  all  true  — 
we  cannot  have  such  ideas  too  often,  or  too  fully  expressed.  So  he 
says,  and  so  he  feels,  and  only  shows  thereby  that  he  is  a  man  as 
well  as  an  anti-abolitionist.  You  have  only  to  keep  out  of  sight  the 
manner  of  applying  your  principles,  to  get  them  endorsed  every 
time.  Contemplating  himself,  he  sees  truth  with  absolute  clearness 
and  distinctness.  He  only  blunders  when  asked  to  lose  sight  of 
himself.  In  his  own  cause  he  can  beat  a  Boston  lawyer,  but  he  is 
dumb  when  asked  to  plead  the  cause  of  others.  He  knows  very 
well  whatsoever  he  would  have  done  unto  himself,  but  is  quite  in 
doubt  as  to  having  the  same  thing  done  unto  others.  It  is  just  here, 
that  lions  spring  up  in  the  path  of  duty,  and  the  battle  once  fought 
in  heaven  is  refought  on  the  earth.  So  it  is,  so  hath  it  ever  been, 
and  so  must  it  ever  be,  when  the  claims  of  justice  ai\d  mercy  make 
their  demand  at  the  door  of  human  selfishness.  Nevertheless,  there 
is  that  within  v/hich  ever  pleads  for  the  right  and  the  just. 

In  conclusion,  I  have  taken  a  sober  view  of  the  present  anti-sla- 
very movement.     I  am  sober,  but  not  hopeless.     There  is  no  deny- 
inij,  for  it  is  everywhere  admitted,  that  the  anti-slavery  question  is 
the  great  moral  and  social  question  now  before  the  American  peo- 
ple.    A  state  of  things  has  gradually  been  developed,  by  which 
that  question  has  become  the  fii'st  thing  in  order.     It  must  be  met. 
Herein  is  my  hope.     The  great  idea  of  impartial  liberty  is  now 
fairly  before  the  American  people.     Anti-slavery  is  no  longer  a 
thinf  to  be  prevented.     The  time  for  prevention  is  past.     This  is 
great  gain.     AVhen  the  movement  was  younger  and  weaker — when 
it  wrought  in  a  Boston  garret  to  human  appiehension,  it  might 
have  been  silently  put  out  of  the  way.     Things  are  different  now. 
It  has  fjrown  too  large — its  friends  are  too  numerous — its  fertilities 
too  abundant — its  ramifications  too  extended — its  power  too  omnip- 
otent, to  be  snuffed  out  by  the  contingencies  of  infancy.     A  thou- 
sand strong  men  might  be  struck  down,  and  its  ranks  still  be  invin- 
cible.    One  flash  from  the  heart-supplied  intellect  of  Harriet  Beecher 
Stowe  could  light  a  million  camp  fires  in  front  of  the  embattled 
host  of  slavery,  which  not  all  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi,  mingled 
as  thev  are  with  blood,  could  extinguish.     The  present  will  be  looked 
to  by  after  coming  generations,  as  the  age  of  anti-slavery  literature 


462  APPENDIX. 

—  when  supply  on  tlie  gallop  could  not  keep  pace  with  the  ever- 
growing demand  —  when  a  picture  of  a  negro  on  the  cover  was  a 
help  to  the  sale  of  a  book — when  conservative  lyceums  and  other 
American  literary  associations  began  first  to  select  their  orators  for 
distinguished  occasions  from  the  ranks  of  the  previously  despised 
abolitionists.     If  the  anti-slavery  movement  shall  fail  now,  it  will 
not  be  from  outward  opposition,  but  from  inward  decay.     Its  aux- 
iliaries are  everywhere.     Scholars,  authors,  orators,  poets,  and  states- 
men give  it  their  aid.     The  most  brilliant  of  American  poets  volun- 
teer in  its  service.     Whittier  speaks  in  burning  verse  to  more  than 
thirty  thousand,  in  the  ]S"ational  Era.     Your  own  Longfellow  whis- 
pers, in  every  hour  of  trial  and  disappointment,   "labor  and  wait." 
James  Russell  Lowell  is  reminding  us  that  "men  are  more  than  in- 
stitutions."    Pierpont  cheers  the  heart  of  the  pilgrim  in  search  of 
liberty,  by  singing  the  praises  of  "the  north  star."     Bryant,  too,  is 
with  us ;  and  though  chained  to  the  car  of  party,  and  dragged  on 
amidst  a  whirl  of  political  excitement,  he  snatches  a  moment  for  let- 
ting drop  a  smiling  verse  of  sympathy  for  the  man  in  chains.     The 
poets  are  with  us.     It  would  seem  almost  absurd  to  say  it,  consid- 
ering the  use  that  has  been  made  of  them,  that  we  have  allies  in  the 
Ethiopian  songs;   those  songs  that  constitute  our  national  music, 
and  without  which  we  have  no  national  music.     They  are  heart 
songs,  and  the  finest  feelings  of  human  nature  are  expressed  in  them. 
"Lucy  Neal,"  "Old  Kentucky  Home,"  and  "Uncle  N"ed,"  can  make 
the  heart  sad  as  well  as  merry,  and  can  call  forth  a  tear  as  well  as  a 
smil€.     They  awaken  the  sympathies  for  the  slave,  in  which  anti- 
slavery  principles  take  root,  grow,  and  flourish.     In   addition  to 
authors,  poets,  and  scholars  at  home,  the  moral  sense  of  the  civilized 
world  is  with  us.     England,  France,  and  Germany,  the  three  great 
lights  of  modern  civilization,  are  with  tis,  and  every  American  trav- 
eler learns  to  regret  the  existence  of  slavery  in  his  country.     The 
growth  of  intelligence,  the  influence  of  commerce,  steam,  wind,  and 
lightning  are  our  allies.     It  would  be  easy  to  amplify  this  summary, 
and  to  swell  the  vast  conglomeration  of  our  material  forces ;  but 
there  is  a  deeper  and  truer  method  of  measuring  the  power  of  our 
cause,  and  of  comprehending  its  vitality.     This  is  to  be  found  in  its 
accordance  with  the  best  elements  of  human  nature.     It  is  beyond 
the  power  of  slavery  to  annihilate  affinities  recognized  and  estab- 
lished by  the  Almighty.     The  slave  is  bound  to  mankind  by  the 
powerful  and  inextricable  net-work  of  human  brotherhood.     Ilis 


THE  AJSTTI-SLAVERT  MOVEMENT.  463 

voice  is  the  voice  of  a  man,  and  lii8  cry  is  the  cry  of  a  man  in  dis- 
tress, and  man  must  cease  to  be  man  before  he  can  become  insensi- 
ble to  that  cry.  It  is  the  righteousness  of  the  cause — the  humanity 
of  the  cause — which  constitutes  its  potency.  As  one  genuine  bank- 
bill  is  worth  more  than  a  thousand  counterfeits,  so  is  one  man,  with 
right  on  his  side,  worth  more  than  a  thousand  in  the  wrong.  "One 
may  chase  a  thousand,  and  put  ten  thousand  to  flight."  It  is,  there- 
fore, upon  the  goodness  of  our  cause,  more  than  upon  all  other  aux- 
iliaries, that  we  depend  for  its  final  triumph. 

Another  source  of  congratulation  is  the  fact  that,  amid  all  the  ef- 
forts made  by  the  church,  the  government,  and  the  people  at  large, 
to  stay  the  onward  progress  of  this  movement,  its  course  has  been 
onward,  steady,  straight,  unshaken,  and  unchecked  from  the  begin- 
ning.    Slavery  has  gained  victories  large  and  numerous ;  but  never 
as  against  this  movement — against  a  temporizing  policy,  and  against 
northern  timidity,  the  slave  power  has  been  victorious  ;  but  against 
the  spread  and  prevalence  in  the  country,  of  a  spirit  of  resistance  to 
its  aggression,  and  of  sentiments  favorable  to  its  entire  overthrow, 
it  has  yet  accomplished  nothing.     Every  measure,  yet  devised  and 
executed,  having  for  its  object  the  suppression  of  anti-slavery,  has 
been  as  idle  and  fz'uitless  as  pouring  oil  to  extinguish  fire.     A  gen- 
eral rejoicing  took  place  on  the  passage  of  "  the  compromise  meas- 
ures" of  1850.     Those  measures  were  called  peace  measures,  and  were 
afterward  termed  by  both  the  great  parties  of  the  country?-,  as  well 
as  by  leading  statesmen,  a  final  settlement  of  the  whole  question  of 
slavery ;  but  experience  has  laughed  to  scorn  the  wisdom  of  pro- 
slavery  statesmen;  and  their  final  settlement  of  agitation  seems  to 
be  the  final  revival,  on  a  broader  and  grander  scale  than   ever  be- 
fore, of  the  question  which  they  vainly  attempted  to  suppress  for- 
evei'.     The  fugitive  slave  bill  has  especially  been  of  positive  service 
to  the  anti-slavery  movement.     It  has  illustrated  before  all  the  peo- 
ple the  horrible  character  of  slavery  toward  the  slave,  in  hunting 
him  down  in  a  free  state,  and  tearing  him  away  from  wife  and  chil- 
dren, thus  setting  its  claims  higher  than  marriage  or  parental  claims. 
It  has  revealed  the  arrogant  and  overbearing  spirit  of  the  slave 
states  toward  the  free, states  ^  des.pidng,  Jlie''n. principles  —  shocking 
their  feelings  of  hiimanityy  i^ot  cmlj  Ijy  hrkfgmk;  before  them  the 
abominations  of  slaver}^  but  by  attempting  to  make  them  parties  to 
the  crime.     It  has  oaUod  into  exer.eise  ^jnor^  tjie,  CQlored  people,  the 
hunted  ones,  a  spirit'of  ma/ily  resiBiancswell  calculated  to  sun'ouud 


4:64:  APPENDIX. 

them  with  a  bulwark  of  sympathy  and  respect  hitherto  nnkiio^n. 
For  men  are  alwa3's  disposed  to  respect  and  defend  rights,  when  the 
victims  of  oppression  stand  up  manfully  for  themselves. 

There  is  another  element  of  power  added  to  the  anti-slavery 
movement,  of  great  importance;  it  is  the  conviction,  becoming 
every  day  more  general  and  universal,  that  slavery  must  be  abol* 
ished  at  the  south,  or  it  will  demoralize  and  destro}^  liberty  at  the 
north.  It  is  the  nature  of  slavery  to  beget  a  state  of  things  all 
around  it  favorable  to  its  own  continuance.  This  fact,  connected 
with  the  system  of  bondage,  is  beginning  to  be  more  fully  realized. 
The  slave-holder  is  not  satisfied  to  associate  with  men  in  the  church 
or  in  the  state,  unless  he  can  thereby  stain  them  with  the  blood  of 
his  slaves.  To  be  a  slave-holder  is  to  be  a  propagandist  from  neces* 
sity ;  for  slavery  can  only  live  by  keeping  down  the  under-growth 
morality  which  nature  supplies.  Every  new-born  white  babe  comes 
armed  from  the  Eternal  presence,  to  make  war  on  slaver3^  The 
heart  of  pity,  wliich  would  melt  in  due  time  over  the  brutal  chas- 
tisements it  sees  inflicted  on  the  helpless,  must  be  hardened.  And 
this  work  goes  on  every  day  in  the  year,  and  every  hour  in  the  day. 

Wliat  is  done  at  home  is  being  done  also  abroad  here  in  the  north. 
And  even  now  the  question  may  be  asked,  have  we  at  this  moment 
a  single  free  state  in  the  Union  ?  The  alarm  at  this  point  will  be* 
come  more  general.  The  slave  power  must  go  on  in  its  career  of  ex- 
actions. Give,  give,  will  be  its  cr^^,  till  the  timidity  which  concedes 
shall  give  place  to  courage,  which  shall  resist.  Such  is  the  voice  of 
experience,  such  has  been  the  past,  such  is  the  present,  and  such 
will  be  that  future,  which,  so  sure  as  man  is  man,  will  come.  Here 
I  leave  the  subject;  and  I  leave  off  where  I  began,  consoling  myself 
and  congratulating  the  friends  of  freedom  upon  the  fact  that  the  anti- 
slavery  cause  is  not  a  new  thing  under  the  sun;  not  some  moral  de- 
lusion which  a  few  years'  expei'ience  may  dispel.  It  has  appeared 
among  men  in  all  ages,  and  summoned  its  advocates  from  all  ranks. 
Its  foundations  are  laid  in  the  deepest  and- holiest  convictions,  and 
from  whatever  soul  the  demon,  selfishness,  is  expelled,  there  will 
this  cause  take  up  its  abode.  Old  as  the  everlasting  hills ;  immova- 
ble as  the  throne  of  G.od;.  and  .certain  as  the  purposes  of  eternal 
poAver,  against  all  hind^vajices,  And  against  all  d'^iays,  and  despite  all 
the  mutations"  of  human  instrumentalities,  it  is  tlie  faith  of  my  soul, 
that  this  anti-slavei:y  cause  V'ill  triumph. 


ARCHY  MOORE, 

t  lolfjitij  Claire, 
OR,  MEMOIRS  OF  A  FUGITIYE. 

BY    RICHARD    HILDRKTH. 

WITH  A  MW  IIISTOPJCAL  INTRODUCTIONS;         ^ 

Written  for  this  edition  by  the  distinguished  author,  and  unfolding  the 
origin,  history  and  characteristics  of  this  remarkable  work. 

One  vol.,  430  pp.  12ino.,  8  Illustrations,  Price  $1  25. 

Have  you  yourself  read  Archy  Moore?  If  you  have,  why  don't 
you  bestow  upon  it  hearty,  fervent,  overwhelming  praise  ?  Wh}^ 
m}^  dear  friend,  it  is  a  wonderful  book!  People  of  the  dullest  minds 
and  wildest  sympathies,  are  thrilled  by  it,  as  if  their  benumbed  fin- 
gers had  touched  an  electric  chain.  Independent  of  the  sound,  con- 
sistent principles  of  freedom  which  beam  on  every  page,  there  is  a 
remarkable  degree  of  intellectual  vigor  and  dramatic  talent  exhibited 
in  the  power  of  language,  the  choice  of  circumstances,  the  combinatioE 
of  events,  and  the  shading  of  character.  Every  sentence  shows  inti- 
mate knowledge  of  the  local  peculiarities  of  the  south,  both  in  the 
respect  of  nature  and  society. — Lydia  Maria  Child. 

This  book,  which  is  very  well  written,  is  full  of  continuous  interest,  and  the  adven- 
tures, though  many  of  them  are  startling  and  exciting,  do  not  run  out  of  the  range  of 
probability.     It  has  been  translated  into  French,  Germau  and  Italian. — jV.  Y.  Times. 

Mr.  Hildreth  describes  southern  scenes  with  all  the  graphic  force  of  an  artist,  and  all  the 
minutije  of  the  more  ordinary  visiter.  What  he  draws  with  his  pen,  he  fairly  brings  before 
the  eye  of  the  reader  ;  the  consequence  is,  that  notliing  is  left  to  perfect  the  latter's  ac- 
quaintance with  scenes  from  which  he  is  far  removodrbut  an  actual  visit  to  them.  The 
aim  of  the  writer,  in  sending  this  work  before  the  public,  is  suggested  by  its  title.  It  is 
an  illustration  of  southern  slavery  in  all  its  phases  and  bearings ;  "and  apparently  a  stronger 
condemnation  of  the  system  we  never  read,  than  in  Mr.  Iliidretirs  pages.  Selecting  the 
narrative  form  lor  the  medium  of  the  homily  he  seeks  to  read,  the  facts  lie  gives,  and  the 
conclusions  he  arrives  at,  come  to  us  in  threefold  force,  from  their  unexpectedness,  and 
their  apparently  natural  sequence.  Archy  Moore  is  destined  to  have  an  extensive  circu- 
lation.— Disjxitfh. 

This  work  was  published  many  years  ago,  under  a  different  title,  and  was  the  first  is- 
sue of  the  Uncle  Tom  school  of  literature.  At  that  time  it  went  begging  in  vain  through 
New  York  and  Boston  for  a  publisher,  and  finally  the  author  got  it  printed  himself  by 
the  city  printer  of  Boston,  who  put  his  name  to  it  as  j)ublisher.  It  was  afterward  printed 
in  England  and  France,  and  translated  into  the  principal  languages  of  Europe.  It  is  now 
revised,  enlargid,  republished,  and  the  authorship  avowed.  It  is  an  ably  written  and  in- 
teresting work. —  U  S.  Journal. 

Fiction  never  performs  a  nobler  office  than  when  she  acts  as  the  handmaid  of  truth. 
It  is  in  this  capacity  that  her  assistance  has  been  invoked  by  the  author  of  the  work  be- 
fore us,  and  so  well  is  the  task  accomplished,  that  vve  can  scarcely  persuade  ourselves,  as 
we  turn  over  the  deeply  interesting  pages,  that  wo  are  perusing  a  narrative  of  fictitious 
wrongs  and  suiferings.  Let  not  the  reader  supi)0se,  from  what  we  have  said,  tiuit  this 
is  a  mere  novel.  The  incidents  wliich  diversify  this  nan-ative,  may  have  had  no  real  ex- 
istence in  the  exact  connection  and  relation  in  which  they  are  linkt-d  together  in  the  sto- 
ry, and  the  characters  may  have  no  prototypes  in  all  their  individual  features;  but  we 
have  too  much  reason  to  know  that  such  incidents  and  such  characters  are  too  abundantly 
supplied  at  the  south  to  require  that  the  novelist  should  draw  very  largely  on  bis  invention. 

The  story  is  \\Titten  in  the  style  of  an  autol>iograpiiy.  and  with  sucli  an  air  of  verisimil- 
itude, that  the  reader  cannot  avoid  the  impression  that  the  task  of  fiction  has  been  merely 
to  arrange  the  materials  supplied  t^y  truth. — Plaindealer. 

MILLER,  ORTON  &  MULLIGAN,  Publishers, 
25  Park  Row,  Xew  York,  and  107  Genesee-st.,  Auburn. 


TWELYE  YEARS  A  SLAYE 

The   Narrative  of  Solomon  Northup,  a  citizen  of  New  York, 

Kidnapped  in  "Washington  City,  in  1841,  and  Rescued  in  1853, 

from  a  Cotton  Plantation  near  Red  River,  Louisiana. 

7  Illustrations,  336  pp.  12nio.     Price  $1,00 


VOICE    OF    THE    PRESS. 

The  narrative  "nill  be  read  with  interest  by  every  one  who  can  sympathize  with  a  hu- 
ms-n  beins  struggling  for  freedom. — Buff.  Cour. 

The  volume  cannot  fail  to  gain  a  wide  circulation.  No  one  can  contemplate  the  scenes 
which  are  here  so  naturally  set  forth,  without  a  new  conviction  of  the  hiileousness  of  the 
institution  from  which  tlie  subject  of  the  narrative  has  happily  escaped. — N.   Y.Trihuite. 

We  think  the  story  as  aftecting  as  any  tale  of  sorrow  could  be. — ^V.    Y.  Erangelist. 

It  proves  conclusively  that  Uncle  Tom's  Cabinisatruthfulhistory  of  American  Slavery, 
though  drawn  under  the  veil  of  fiction. — Otsego  Rep. 

Ne'xt  to  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,  the  extraordinary  narrative  of  Solomon  Northup,  is  the 
most  remarkable  book  that  was  ever  issued  from  the  American  press. — Detroit  Trib. 

Tliis  is  a  simple,  earnest,  moving  narrative  of  the  events,vicissitude.s,  cruelties  and 
kindnesses  of  a  bondage  of  12  years.  If  there  are  those  who  can  i)eruse  it  unmoved,  wo 
pity  them.  That  it  will  create  as  great  a  sensation,  anu  >^e  regarded  equally  as  interesting 
as  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"'  is  not  a  question  for  argument. — Biiff<tlo  Express. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  exciting  narratives,  full  of  thrilling  incidents  artlessly  told,  with 
all  the  marks  of  truth.  There  are  no  dejiicted  scenes  in  "  Uncie  Tom  "  more  tragic,  hoiri- 
ble,  and  pathetic,than  the  incidents  compassed  in  the  twelve  years  of  this  man's  life  in 
slavery. — Cincinnati  Jour. 

E?  who  with  an  unbiassed  mind  sits  down  to  the  perusal  of  this  book,  will  arise  per- 
fectly satisfied  that  American  slavery  is  a  hell  of  torments  j-et  untold,  and  feel  like  devo- 
ting the  energies  of  his  life  to  its  extirpation  from  the  face  of  God"s  beautiful  eaith. — 
Er.euing  Chron. 

The  story  is  one  of  thrilling  interest  as  a  mere  personal  history.  Ileisbut  a  little  darker 
than  many  who  pass  for  white,  and  quite  as  intelligent  as  most  white  men. — N.  C.  Adv. 

The  boi>k  is  one  of  most  absorbing  interest. — Pittsburgh  Lisjxitcli. 

It  is  written  in  a  racy,  agreeable  style,  and  narrates  with  admirable  conciseness,  yet 
animation  the  etory  of  the  siitferings,  woes  and  [lersecutions  of  the  liero.  It  is  no  less 
remarkable  for  candor  and  unity  of  purpose  than  for  literary  ability. — Oneida  Her. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  efloctive  books  against  slavery  that  was  ever  written.  "xVrchy 
Moore"  and" Uncle  Tom  "  are  discndiied  by  many  as  •'romances;"  but  how  the  a[)olo- 
gists  for  ilie  institution  can  dispose  of  Northup  we  are  curious  to  see. — Syracuse  Jour. 

It  is  well  told  and  bears  internal  evidence  of  being  a  clear  statement  of  facts.  There  is 
no  attempt  at  dis[)lay,  but  the  events  are  so  graphically  portrayed,  that  tlie  interest  in  the 
perusal  is  deep  and  unabated  to  tlie  last  Some  of  the  scenes  have  a  fearful  and  exciting 
power  in  their  delineation. — Cayugii  Chief. 

It  is  a  strange  history,  its  truth  is  far  stranger  than  fiction.  Think  of  it!  For  thirty 
vears  a  ii.ix,  with  all  a  man's  hopes,  fears  and  asjiirations — with  a  wife  and  children  to  call 
Iiim  by  the  endearing  names  of  husband  and  father — vrith  a  home,  humble  it  may  be, 
but  stiil  a  HOME,  bene.ath  the  shelter  of  whose  roof  none  had  a  right  to  molest  or  make  him 
afraid — then  for  twelve  years  a  thing,  a  chattel  personal,  classed  with  mules  and  horses 
and  treated  with  less  consideration  than  they:  torn  from  his  home  and  family,  and  the  free 
labor  by  which  he  earned  their  bread,  and  driven  to  unremitting,  unrequitetl  uoil  in  a  cotton 
field,  under  a  burning  southern  sun,  by  the  lash  of  an  inhuman  master.  Oh  !  it  is  horri- 
ble.    It  chills  tlie  blood  to   think  that  such  things  are.— i^/'ec?.  Douglass'  Paper. 

It  comes  before  us  with  highly  respectable  vouchers,  and  is  a  plain  and  simple  statement 
of  what  happened  to  the  author  while  in  bondage  to  soutliern  masters.  It  is  a  well  told 
story,  full  of  interest,  and  may  be  said  to  be  the  reality  of  "life  among  the  lowly."— ^((i^ 
Coin.  Adv. 

-  Let  it  be  read  by  all  those  good  easy  souls,  who  think  slavery  is,  on  the  whole  a  good 
thing.  Let  it  be  read  by  all  who  think  that  althougii  slavery  is  politicallv  and  economi- 
cally a  bad  thing,  it  is  not  very  bad  fertile  slaves.  "Let  it  bo  read  by  all  those  M.  C."sand 
supporters  who  are  always  ready  to  give  their  votes,  in  aidof  slavery  and  the  slave  trado 
with  all  the  kidnapping  inseparable  from  it.  Let  it  be  read,  too,  by  our  southern  fi-iends,- 
whopity  with  so  much  christian  sensibility,  the  wretched  condition  of  the  free  negroes  at 
the  north,  and  rejoice  at  the  enviable  condition  of  their  own  slaves.— A''.  Y.  Ind. 

Published  b}-  MILLER,  ORTON  &  MULLIGAN", 
No.  25  Park  Row,  New  Yobk,  and  107  Genasee-st,  Aubttrjc 


TEMPERANCE  AND  FREEDOM! 

THE    SUBJECTS  AND  THE    MEN ! 


AMERICAN 

AGITATORS  AND  REFORMERS 

BY    D.   W.   BART  LETT. 

One  vol.  12ino.,  S96  pp.,  6  Steel  Portraits.  Price  $1.25. 

Containing  bold,  vigorous  and  life-like  sketches  of  the  rise, 
progress,  and  present  position  of  the  principal  Tempei-ance 
and  Anti-Slavery  leaders  of  this  country,  including  such  emi- 
nent Reformers  as  the  Beeciiers,  Mrs.  Stowe,  Greeley, 
Seward,  Gough,  Chapin,  Frederick  Douglass,  &c.  &c., 
with  extracts  from  their  writings. 


—♦-©-♦- 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS-BRIEF   EXTRACTS, 

If  any  wish  for  a  bound  picture  gallery  of  very  distinguished  persons,  let  them  buy 
this  book. — Religious  Herald. 

The  descriptions  are  animated  and  critical,  and  besides  giving  information  ■which 
everybody  desires  to  know,  present  many  noble  and  just  views  of  reform. — N.  Y. 
Evangelist. 

Thousands  feel  the  want  of  just  such  an  acquaintance  as  this  volume  gives,  with 
the  early  history  and  struggles  of  the  men  who  are  giving  character  to  this  age  and 
cation. — C hristi'aih  Messenger. 

It  contains  some  of  the  best  selections  from  the  best  works  of  the  best  writer-s 
and  best  men  in  the  country. — Amerioan  News. 

The  author  has  given  brief  and  interesting  biographies,  quoting  extensively  from 
the  writings  of  the  persons  sketched,  making  a  very  attractive  book.  Mr.  Bartlett 
is  a  strong  friend  of  freedom.  He  admires  and  loves  those  who  battle  for  the  right. 
His  task  has  evidently  been  a  very  pleasant  one.  We  commend  the  book  to  our 
readers,  as  one  which  will  pay  perusal. — Cayuga  Chief. 

Pleasantly  and  well  written  sketches  of  notable  Americans,  who  have  taken  an  ac- 
tive part  in  various  reforms  which  have  been  going  on  in  the  Union  for  many 
ycum.— British  Whig. 

No  one  can  -read  it  without  profit  and  pleasure  of  the  highest  order.  The  "  prin- 
ciples" and  the  ''Men"  portrayed  are  given  with  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer. —  Wes- 
lei/an. 

We  venture  the  assertion  that  there  is  not  a  volume  in  existence  which  contains 
better  sfiecimons  of  eloquence,  imjiassioned.  pathetic,  indignatory — eloquence  tliat 
rouses  up  the  better  feelings  of  humanity — than  are  contained  in  this  volume.  The 
sketches  are  superior  specimens  of  pen-portraits. — Boston  Visitor. 

The  book  is  a  capital  one — replete  with  instructive,  stirring  matter. — Teinperance 
Standard. 

Published  by         MILLEli,  ORTON  k  MULLIGAN, 

No.  25  Park  Row,  New  Yokk,  and  lOY  Genosee-st.,  Axjbubx. 


MAGNIFICENT  WORK  OF  HISTORY. 

»a.    Whole  I^ibrary  in  Itself! 
Cost  $11,000  —  1207  Pages— 70  ]IIaps— 700  Engraviugrs* 


HISTOR!  OF  iLL  MTIONS, 

.  FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME  ; 

OR, 

Df  ■mncn  the 
HISTORY  OF  EYERY  NATION,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN, 

IS    SEPARATELY    GIVEN. 

BY    S.    G.    GOOURICM, 

Consul  to  Parl%  and  Author  of  several  Works  of  History,  Parley's  Tales,  etc. 

It  contains  1207  pages,  royal  octavo,  and  is  illustrated  by  70  Maps  and  700  Engravings : 

bound  in  imitation  Turkey  morocco. 

Invariable  retail  price,  $6,00  in  one  volume ;  $7,00  in  two  volumes. 

Tlie  same,  full  gilt  edi/e  and  sides,  $8,00  in  one  volume ;  $10,00  in  two  vols. 


♦:^*  It  is  believed  that  the  above  work,  by  Mr.  Goodrich,  will  be  very  acceptable 
^i  the  American  public.  It  is  the  result  of  years  of  toil  and  labor,  assisted  in  his  re- 
searches by  several  scholars  of  laiown  ability,  and  has  been  gotten  up  at  a  great  ex- 
pense by  the  proprietors.  No  pains  have  been  spared  in  the  execution  of  the  Illustra- 
tions and  Maps,  which  are  entirely  new,  and  prepared  by  the  distinguished  author 
expressly  for  the  work.  Indeed,  all  the  other  historical  writings  of  Mr.  Goodrich 
sink  into  insignificance,  when  comparod  with  this,  the  result  of  his  riper  and  maturer 
years.  It  is  admitted  that  One  Riuidred  Dollars  could  not  purchase  the  same  mat- 
ter in  any  other  shape :  and  the  publishers  confidently  expect  that,  in  consideration 
of  the  great  literary  value  of  the  work,  the  large  sum  expended  in  preparing  it  for  the 
press,  and  the  exceedingly  moderate  price  at  which  it  is  offered,  that  it  will  be  favoi' 
«.bly  received  by  every  lover  of  good  books. 

Published  by  Miller,  Orton  &,  Mulligan, 

No.  25  Park  Row,  New  York,  and  107  Genesee-st.,  Auburn. 


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